


You Wanna Be Rough?

by SowenElf



Category: Alias (TV)
Genre: F/M, PWP, Romance, Sexy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:34:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 69,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25702141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SowenElf/pseuds/SowenElf
Summary: A series of mature S/V vignettes.
Relationships: Sydney Bristow/Michael Vaughn
Comments: 12
Kudos: 9





	1. All About the Makeup

Late season 2 (after Phase One)

**...**

Sydney watched Vaughn from the couch as he sat at the kitchen table pouring over the information he'd received from his contact at the bar, as well as the knowledge that Syd had provided him with. He was being investigated, that much he knew, but investigated for checking up on Irina Derevko? Hardly something to punish an agent for, he thought. Especially when he was acting to protect one of their most valuable assets: Sydney Bristow.

He was still fuming and she knew it, so she kept her distance and made sure he had enough privacy to deal with the rampant thoughts in his head. She wanted to walk up to him and pull him into her arms for comfort as he had done for her in the past, but she knew it wouldn't necessarily be a good idea.

When most couples had makeup sex, it was after apologizing for their transgressions against their loved ones. When Sydney and Vaughn had makeup sex, it commonly occurred during the fight - their anger and hurt being assuaged with one another in the throes of passion. Tender moments almost always transpired after the rough lovemaking after all feelings of resentment were laid to rest.

She knew that he was still angry about her keeping Yager's investigation secret, and in truth, she didn't blame him. She'd been angry about secrets before, and now she had been the one to withhold information from the one person she had sworn never to betray. The contradicting emotions flitting through her mind moved from hot to cold. One moment she'd move to get up and walk over but then settle back down and flip through the book on her lap.

She finally just let out a huff of air and stood, making her way into the kitchen to see him leaning against the fridge eyeing her with fiery emerald orbs, his legs crossed at the ankles and his arms folded over his chest. If she didn't know him any better, she'd think that she was an immediate danger.

But she did know him, and the sight of him holding back so much hurt and anger made her heart beat faster as the blood began pulsing through her veins.

"You still mad?' She asked lightly, and his sudden movement made her jump.

His hands gripped her forearms like a vice, his fingers digging brutally into her skin as his mouth, complete with unshaven cheeks and chin, attacked her ferociously. His rough stubble left red abrasions on her face as his tongue forced its way into her moist depths to duel with her own.

His hands abandoned her arms to reach down and haul her entire body off the floor, her legs instinctively wrapping securely around his waist to keep from falling backward. She was insanely happy that Will and Francie were gone for the weekend, which left the apartment empty for the new couple. She dimly heard a crash and a scattered fluff of papers as his one free arm roughly shoved the folder and its contents off the table.

Her mouth was still vacuumed to his, feeling the breath leave her lungs in a rush as her back slammed onto the wooden surface of the table, his body still hard against hers. The evidence of his desire was, at the moment, pressed firmly against her taut stomach, and spots danced behind her lids as she struggled to get an ounce of air into her lungs.

With a smack, he released her swollen lips to look down at the disheveled woman lying prone beneath him.

"Too rough?" his raspy voice broke through the foggy barrier of her thoughts as she shook her head, reaching up and yanking him back down to her warm body. His hands instantly went for her shirt, and gripping each side of the buttoned-up seams, he ripped them apart, sending the plastic pieces all over the dining area.

Her taut stomach and lacy black bra were exposed to his hungry gaze, and the first thing his eyes noticed was that the hooks were in the front. He didn't remember her putting that on this morning, he thought, but his mind was soon set on a different track as Sydney's fingers danced languidly up her stomach; with a flick of the wrist, her breasts were bare.

He left her shirt and bra pinned beneath them as his mouth attacked the right peak, his hand working on the left and his teeth biting into the nipple making her cry out. His tongue salved the sore spot as he pulled back long enough to notice the slight marks marring her creamy breast.

"Too rough?"

Another shake of the head confirmed that she was indeed enjoying herself, her hands moving lower to unsnap the casual yet classy slacks she was wearing. The zipper was easy, it was the snap that was proving to be difficult as she twisted, trying desperately to get it undone with one hand. It finally came loose, and Vaughn instantly shoved her trousers down her long tanned legs, seeing a matching pair of underwear of black lace underneath.

"Did you plan this?"

"Maybe," she flashed a Cheshire cat grin and his mouth moved lower. He bit onto her hip, leaving a lovely copy of his dental records then sucking hard, leaving it as two sets of teeth surrounded by a blood-risen purple mark. His hands were everywhere at once, gripping each breast and moving lower to tickle her sides before running down her arms and grabbing her wrists to hold them in a powerful grip with one hand.

"Can we move this to the bedroom?" she asked, feeling his sliding fingers move closer to her moist center.

"What's wrong with the kitchen table?"

"We don't need to break it like the office chair. Need I remind you how  _ that  _ one ended." She laughed a throaty chuckle, making the hair on his arms and the back of his neck stand to attention.

"If you insist." He pulled at her arms and propelled her up and over his shoulder, carrying her the slight distance to her bedroom. Kicking the door closed behind him, he walked brusquely over to the bed and tossed her down, her body bouncing on the coverlet.

She started to sit up, but his hand pushing against her chest stopped her, his voice demanding as he told her to stay put. He walked over to the closet and opened it halfway, reaching in and grabbing a couple of the few things he kept at her place – two silk ties.

"Vaughn," she groaned, watching as he stalked back over and began cinching her wrists to the bedposts behind her head. To be honest, he tied them a bit tighter than last time, but she wasn't going to be the one to complain. He moved away and watched her test his knots as she determined that she probably couldn't escape without help, and even if she could get free it would ruin his fun.

He stood calmly at the edge of the bed, his fingers moving slowly, too slowly for her liking, to each button of his shirt. Reaching the bottom he then pulled it from where it was tucked into his pants, finishing the last two buttons before he sliding it off his built shoulders. His hands stopped when he reached his belt, unbuckling it before pulling it free from the confining loops and sending it across the floor to join his discarded shirt. His pants slid down his legs after he toed off his shoes and yanked off his socks, making sure she noticed that he hadn't worn any boxers.

"Did you plan this?" Her breathless question made him look up and, if it was possible, his cock grew harder at the sight of her bound and helpless – though he knew the thought of Sydney Bristow being helpless was laughable, he entertained it anyway.

"Maybe." Grinning and completely bare, he crawled up to her on the bed, his hardness bouncing and occasionally slapping against his stomach as he gripped her legs between his, forcing her knees apart and keeping the ankles together with his. His lips softly caressed hers making her moan into his mouth, but that quickly changed when she squeaked and bit his tongue as his knee pressed against her mound. He pulled back, seeing the apology written in her eyes though she wasn't vocal with her thoughts.

He let his hands trail down her body, his short fingernails scratching and leaving marks in certain spots until they flitted over her clothed center, her hips involuntarily jumping off the bed. He kept one arm up to pin her down as the other slid inside her panties and began to tease her nether-lips, his finger sliding along the wet slit until he reached the nub of nerves making her hips jump once more.

"Vaughn…"

"What?"

"You know I don't beg."

"We'll see about that." He grinned and moved down to join his hands as they slid her underwear down her legs, pulling back far enough for her to kick them off herself.

His mouth inched lower, showering her body with nips, bites, and licks before ending at her navel. She giggled when his tongue dipped inside, claiming that she was very ticklish there, and he smiled at the thought of finding yet another spot that could drive her mad. Because they'd only been dating for a short time, he hadn't exactly been able to fine-tune his hands to her body, but he was bent on learning and there was no time like the present.

Without warning, he shoved two fingers into her quivering heat, making her cry out and pull at the restraints keeping her hands from caressing him like she desperately wanted to. His tongue left her belly button and moved lower, the first flick of it over her clit making her buck her hips up. He set his palm firmly against her to keep her as still as possible as his hand began moving quickly, his tongue picking up a frantic pace against the button of nerves.

Her orgasm rose like a tidal wave, Vaughn finding her g-spot and rubbing it with his embedded digits while he abandoned licking and sucked her clit abruptly into his mouth. The contracting of her internal muscles, coupled with the mewling noises she was making made him signals that she was close, so he stopped entirely to yank his fingers out and release her from his mouth. He looked up at her, smiling seductively at her wide eyes and open mouth, no words or sounds coming out as she panted and stared down at him in shock.

"What the hell, Vaughn?" She growled, twisting more at the ties binding her to the bed as she throbbed and ached to finish the job herself.

"You said you won't beg?" He asked and propped his head on his hand supported by his elbow next to her hip, lightly flicking his finger over her swollen nub. She whimpered while trying to increase his pressure by lifting her hips, but his arms pushing against her stomach kept her hips more or less on the bed.

"Nope. Not gonna," she growled and bit her lip, seeing the determination fill his eyes.

"Okay." He dove back in, his mouth alternating between sucking and licking as his fingers pressed against her internal button on each in-stroke. He brought her to the peak then backed off, letting her teeter just short of the edge as she was forced to slide backward, glaring at him through violet-tinted hazel eyes, her passion evident. He did it once more, bringing her up and finally letting her spill over as he moved quickly to impale his hard cock into her contracting core. Starting off with a near-violent pace he drove her hips into the bed, his mouth suctioning over hers as she tasted herself on his lips.

She ached to touch him, the cloth beginning to chafe the delicate skin of her wrists as Michael pounded against her, driving out two more orgasms before she felt him spill into her, his groans muffled against her throat as his body fell heavy over hers.

He lay still for a few minutes trying to get his bearings as they both sucked air into their starving lungs.

"Vaughn?"

"Mmhmm," he mumbled and pressed a kiss to her shoulder.

"My hands hurt," she grumbled, hating to ruin the intimate moment, but her fingers were well past the numb stage and had begun to throb.

Tenderly he pulled out and away from her while reaching up to undo the ties as she wiggled her raw wrists to try and get circulation back to her abandoned fingertips.

"I thought you said it wasn't too rough," he grumbled and each hand into his own and kissing the sore flesh of her wrists.

"Sometimes I like it rough." 

...


	2. The Office Chair

Sydney sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose between her eyes and wishing desperately that she hadn't left her Advil sitting on the nightstand. She gave up, ignoring the aching in her temples as she tried to concentrate on her report.

It was late, and Weiss, Vaughn, Sydney, and Marshall were the only people in the main part of their offices. It was rumored that Kendall and Jack were somewhere in the building, but they hadn't been spotted in over half an hour. She looked over at Marshall, seeing that he'd fallen asleep in his chair with his head dropped in his open briefcase as papers stuck to his forehead. She grinned, moving her line of sight over to Eric as he played Tetris on his computer. Marshall must have hooked that up for him, and she chuckled quietly before finally peeking over at Vaughn.

He was the only one of the group actually getting any work done. His jacket had been shrugged off, as well as his tie, and he typed slowly on the keyboard with his rolled sleeves bouncing at the movement of his wrists. She missed his holster, though he had managed to pull it out of a box the other night and surprise her when she came home from her Switzerland mission debrief. She'll never forget the moment she walked into the apartment and found him lying on her bed completely naked and wearing only a smile, a hard-on, and his holster.

A blush rose from her neck as she remembered how she enjoyed the holster and everything else that evening, and she undid the first two buttons of her blouse, shrugging out of the blazer. She redoubled her efforts on the report, typing away until the words began to flow and she entered the place every attentive desk-jockey had been, a place Weiss liked to call 'The Zone of the Secretary.'

Vaughn stopped working, his mind wandering as he typed the words  _ Agent Bristow _ . He looked over at where she was sitting and did a double-take when he noticed that she had removed her jacket and unbuttoned the top of her shirt. He glimpsed the sweaty sheen on her neck and frowned. She was forever complaining about it being too cold in the offices, always having a jacket or sweater handy to keep her warm while sitting at her desk.

She had a slight flush to her cheeks and he frowned deeper before standing and walking over to her desk. She didn't even notice as he moved around to stand behind her, so intent on her report, so he read a bit over her shoulder. As he skimmed, he noticed a few slight errors.

**\- 4:09 am -**

**Agent Vaughn and Agent Bristow intercept communication from the suspect's contact detailing a meet between Agent Davenport and the suspect, Steven Giles.**

**Giles relayed false information and Agents Vaughn and Bristow moved in.**

**Vaughn holstered the suspect while Agent Bristow moved in on Giles' contact.**

' _ Holstered _ ?' What the hell does holstered mean? Obviously a typo. He crossed his arms over his chest and continued to read over her shoulder with a small smirk and a cocked eyebrow.

**\- 4:15 am -**

**Agents Weiss and Bristow detained the contact as both suspects were taken into custody by MI-5.**

**Agent Vaughn hard the transmission from the CIA and all agents were ordered to abort.**

Holstered? Hard? Now the blush made sense. She had been thinking of the time when…

A large and mischievous smile spread across his face, his dimples popping out, and he leaned forward to press his nose against the spot behind her ear where she applied her perfume. He took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet scent as she went still, her fingers poised over the keys as she cursed herself for zoning out.

"Where is your mind, Agent Bristow?"

"On my report, where yours should be, Agent Vaughn."

"Oh really? _ 'Vaughn holstered the suspect' _ ?"

She blushed and hid her face in her hands as she heard his chuckle behind her, his hot breath against her skin. He heard her muttered curse as he laughed low, brushing his fingers against the length of her throat to move her hair over her shoulder.

"What were you really thinking about?" he whispered, kissing the spot of perfumed skin causing her to hiss in response.

"Vaughn, not here," she ordered, rolling a few feet away in her padded chair.

"Why not?" Vaughn asked, following after her.

"Well, my father could come in for starters," she began.

"And secondly?" He latched his mouth against her racing pulse point and sucked, pulling away with a smack and tracing the purple-red mark he'd just placed on her soft skin with the tip of his finger.

"Ummm…well – Kendall could..." she tried to continue.

"Nah. They're in analysis.”

"That doesn't mean that-"

"Yes, it does. We've got at least an hour," he grinned, seeing her weighing the options before daring to look up at him. He saw the desire in her eyes, knowing some of it was stemming from the newness of their relationship, but the moment her eyes traced his body he knew she was game.

"Get a room!" Eric snapped from the opposite side of the room as he glowered at the two flirting agents before returning to his game.

"Good advice," she said breathlessly, standing quickly and sending the chair rolling a few feet away as she grabbed Vaughn’s hand.

"Whoa, you're really going along with this? I…I didn't think-" Michael stammered.

"What?" she interrupted, dragging the now-reluctant agent down an adjacent hallway toward an empty conference room before continuing. "Didn't think I'd call your bluff? Think again. There are plenty of things that I'd rather do than write that stupid report," she murmured, the tightness in Vaughn's trousers growing more uncomfortable by each breathy word she emitted.

"Including doing what we're thinking about doing in the conference room Kendall always uses? You do realize that I'll never be able to sit at this table again without thinking..." Vaughn trailed off as she stepped closer with her fingers beginning to undo the buttons of her blouse.

"Without thinking of what?" Sydney challenged, pushing him back into the chair and causing it to roll a few feet away. She slowly and deliberately undid them one by one until the garment was opened wide showing her lacy black bra.

"I'll get back to you on that," he mumbled, rolling the chair back with his feet until he was sitting in front of her lean body.

He hauled her into his lap, the sudden spread of her legs forcing a small tear in her skirt.

"Damn it, Vaughn, I liked this skirt," she growled after hearing the ripping of material and finding the hem forced apart.

"Hey, you started it," he growled before descending on her neck with a vicious love bite, a purple mark left in his wake.

Her hands clawed at his heavy jacket, one slipping between their writhing bodies to undo the button pinning it together before shoving it off of his shoulders as his lips found their way up to hers.

His tongue swiftly entered her mouth to duel with her own, and she cracked open an eye to untangle the knot that was his tie. Breaking apart with an audible smack, she growled in frustration as Vaughn's fingers slid up her thighs, finding the edge of the thigh-high pantyhose. Pausing there, his hands gripped her legs in a tight hold as she, in the midst of desperately trying to undo the striped contraption around his neck, unwittingly shoved the knot up rather than slipping it down.

He saw stars as she chuckled momentarily; a faint apology intermingled with her breathy laughter. She set a kiss to his nose as the fabric finally hung in two limp strands on either side of his neck. She leaned in, sucking at his Adam's apple as his hands continued their journey underneath her skirt.

Vaughn groaned as she moved around the left side of his throat, her mouth paving a wet trail as her fingers busied themselves with the clasps of his shirt. She found the spot underneath his earlobe, feeling him shiver against her body and force her legs tighter around his lap.

She shifted, looking back to see that the chair didn't have a straight flat back, but rather a round padded top, a thin short neck, and a seat complete with armrests. Rearranging her legs so that each of them straddled his body, her limbs fit perfectly through the gaps made by his body and put his bulging trousers in contact with her cotton-covered core.

They moaned in unison, her mouth leaving his neck as they met each other with fervor. Managing to open his shirt completely, she saw stunned to see that he hadn't worn an undershirt.

"Well, that made my job a bit easier," she commented, pulling back with a smile to survey their compromising position. One dip and the light chair could topple, but that would make for an adventurous bout of lovemaking.

Though…this danced on the fine line between making love and hot fucking.

Her hands pressed into his chest, fingernails skimming over his nipples and down his rippling abdomen until she found the straining material of his dress pants. Cupping his cock through the fabric made a feral growl escape his throat, his hands that were once massaging her upper thighs moved up and grabbed at the junction of her panties, roughly pulling them aside.

She barely made out the utterance, "Enough," before his moist, hot tongue invaded her mouth and two hard fingers pushed into her warmth. She gasped, pulling away from his lips as her hands trembled at his belt, button and zipper, trying to focus on her task while his hand alternated between thrusting with his thumb rubbing at her clit and staying embedded to the hilt to locate her g-spot.

"God, Vaughn, come on – give me a minute," she grunted, finally releasing his pent up hardness as it sprang out and slapped against her stomach.

His hand left her core and moved directly to her hips, the tear in the side of her skirt growing as he bunched the material around her waist. If anyone were to walk into the room right now, it was inevitable that what they were about to see would be a complete disregard for office etiquette.

Yet here they were, Vaughn resting comfortably in the office chair with Sydney straddling his lap. He was trying to keep his feet anchored to the floor to prevent the chair from rolling across the room during their fuck in the middle of the conference room, but he wasn't too sure how long his muscles would last.

All coherent thought, however, was completely blown from his mind as she grabbed him with both hands and pushed herself up with strong runner's legs. He helped by lifting her with his muscled arms, and together they got the tip aligned with her center.

Letting go abruptly, she sank down with a startled gasp, her hands flying up to rest against his chest. Their eyes closed with pleasure as he picked her up once more and dropped her to the hilt onto his erection. She wiggled her hips from side to side, sometimes throwing him off with a circular motion as he started to thrust up into her pliable body.

Reaching down with her hand, she found the lever that tilted the chair back and pulled it. Dipping back suddenly, both agents found themselves lying almost horizontal as he found a bit more purchase to thrust up with their new position. Her hands reclaimed their place on his pectorals, fingernails digging into his skin as she rocked back to meet his thrusts.

Vaughn's eyes opened momentarily to focus on his lover as she sat perched above him. Cursing himself for not releasing what hid behind the sexy black lace, he watched as her half-covered breasts bounced in an almost taunting fashion. Giving in to the temptation, his mouth latched around one of the jiggling mounds, the hot moistness of his tongue contrasted the cool fabric and made her gasp.

Her hands instantly left from their perch on his chest and moved to the arms of the squeaking chair. This gave them a bit more leverage for deeper penetration, and as he bottomed out he knew the end was near.

He redoubled his efforts, tilting farther back in the creaking chair to push faster into her velvet box, their groans and harsh whispers echoing in the large, empty conference room. Alternating between pushing up with his hips and pulling her down with his hands, coupled with her rotating hips, they toppled over the edge; she with a high pitched mewl that vaguely sounded like his name, and he with a hoarse groan as she milked his orgasm from him slowly.

The intense aftershocks passed quickly, her body flat over his with her face buried into his neck. She pulled away a few moments later, brushing a loving kiss to his mouth with swollen lips, her eyes opening slowly. He studied her face for a minute, seeing the beautiful brown of her eyes and the purple hue shining around the iris.

"You're beautiful," his voice was a deep, ragged whisper; she pressed up to get closer to him by using the armrests, hearing a creaking groan before they gave way.

With a startled gasp – her hands being her only support other than Vaughn's body below her – she slammed forward into his chest which, in turn, forced him against the tilted back of the chair. Their combined weight with the pressure against the small metal rod bent it backward at an odd, unfixable angle.

"Good God, we broke the chair," he grunted, hearing her laugh and joining her.

Unfortunately, with both of their bodies upsetting the balance of the chair, and Vaughn lifting his legs to try and help steady his breathless girlfriend gave the wheels a chance to roll. Sliding back in a rush they plowed into the – thankfully – carpeted floor, Vaughn's head slamming into the ground as Sydney's knees landed with two harsh thumps on either side of his hips.

The chair’s back was embedded in his spine, underneath his rib cage, forcing the air from his lungs as they lay sprawled on the floor.

Just as they thought the end of their adventurous sex couldn't get any worse, the door to the conference room flew open. Thankfully they were lying with their sides mostly facing the door. Due to their rush at the beginning, most of their clothes were still in place. Still, Sydney's hand flew to her hip and tugged the torn skirt down until at least half of her backside was barely covered.

"Oh…oh god…I didn't-" Marshall's stutter drew their eyes to the staring techie standing with saucer-sized eyes. "I hadn't realized this room was…ah…being – used…for some," he paused with a gulp, holding up a folder to cover his eyes as he sashayed sideways to the computer at the end of the table. Fumbling around on the side of the machine he located and unplugged the USB cable before making his way out of the room without chancing another glance at the sprawled couple in an extremely compromising situation.

"Well," Vaughn smirked, seeing Sydney's bright red face turn from the empty doorway to look at his own astonished eyes. "That'll make for interesting office gossip," he laughed.

She grinned with a groan, leaning down and shoving her face into his chest as the door opened once more and a camera flashed.

"Hoo hoo! Marshall's stuttering wasn't enough to describe this one!" Weiss busted as he snapped one more photo of the wide-eyed couple, leaving just as quickly as he'd entered.

"Damnit, Eric," Vaughn growled, disentangling himself from Sydney as she tried to free her legs from the toppled chair, Weiss' laughter still echoing as the doors closed completely.

…


	3. Handcuffs and Holsters

A ringing phone woke Sydney from a restless sleep, and she rolled over to grab the cell from the small nightstand beside the bed. Seeing the flashing green light of the screen, she blinked a few times before being able to read the number listed. It wasn't one she recognized. Tentatively, she pushed the button and set the phone to her ear.

"Bristow." Her voice was a gravely and sleepy drawl, though she tried to make herself sound alert and awake.

Sitting up against the headboard while waiting for a reply, the cool night air hit her bare shoulders, and she briefly wished she'd slipped into something more than just a camisole and a pair of cotton underwear to sleep in.

"Hello?" she called once more, hearing a shuffle on the other end and what sounded like an iron gate being closed.

"Joey's Pizza," Vaughn's low, lusty voice came through her earpiece, visibly calming the now wide-awake female agent.

"Damn it, Vaughn," she growled, looking over at the bedside clock to see that it was 4:17 in the morning. "You should have been home last night," she spat out.

"Joey's Pizza?" he questioned her this time.

"No – I'm not going to play. Not at 4:17 in the morning after being up worrying about you all night," she grumbled, sliding back into the bed and pulling the coverlet up to her chin, keeping the phone tucked between the pillow and her ear.

"Joey's Pizza has a confirmed delivery to Warehouse 47," he tempted once more, Sydney finally starting to acknowledge that the only way his call would stop would be to play along.

"Vaughn, come on," she sat up once again, kicking her legs out over the edge of the bed, her feet curling when they came into contact with the cold hardwood floor. "Just come home, I’m...I’m already naked," she lied.

"A large hard pizza with a side of holster will be waiting for the next fifteen minutes. I can't promise this offer will be on the table later, Agent Bristow," he replied sternly.

She sighed, though it was more of a moaned growl, rising from the bed and pulling on a pair of Vaughn's much-too-long, plaid pull-string sleep pants. "Fine, I'll be there in twenty," she snapped, turning the phone off and tossing it onto the bed, slipping her feet into a pair of flip flops, realizing they were Vaughn's as well.

"Oh, well," she growled, stumbling over the long shoes and making her way out to the living room in search of her keys. Running a hand through her hair, the thought of brushing the strands – or her teeth for that matter – ran through her head, but she dismissed the notion quickly. He deserved morning breath and a disheveled Sydney for pulling this little game so early in the morning.

**…**

Vaughn yawned as he stepped out of the taxi a block away from the warehouse. Paying the man and lifting his suitcase from the trunk, the driver left him standing on the curb. Walking with tired steps toward the famed meeting spot in his and Sydney's 'handler/asset' days, he had to grin at the idea. For two weeks he'd had a hard-on because of the game she'd initiated while he was on his way to the extended mission.

He'd been planning this the whole flight back from Germany, and the bulge in his pants had not decreased. But, in every situation, there are both good and bad aspects, and this was one of those situations. He was going to get Sydney back for messing with him, but at the same time, he'd been in varying states of torture for the past week and a half. Opening the large iron door, he lifted his cell from the inside pocket of his jacket and pushed speed dial #1.

"Bristow," her voice was low and edgy, and he could tell that she hadn't gotten any more sleep in the last fourteen days than he had. Guilt briefly flooded his system, but he forced himself to stay on track.

The lull in their conversation made her repeat herself over the phone, her voice slightly more alert. "Hello?"

"Joey's Pizza," he grinned, making sure she heard the low tone she once affectionately called the 'sex voice'.

He heard her grumble through the phone and grinned, knowing she was most likely annoyed by his call.

"Damn it, Vaughn, you should have been home last night."

Again, another small surge of guilt was replaced by a small twitch in his trousers at the sound of her voice. "Joey's Pizza?" he asked quickly, hoping she'd get the message that he wasn't going to stop until she agreed to meet him.

"No – I'm not going to play. Not at 4:17 in the morning," she growled, Vaughn double-checking his watch and seeing that it was indeed 4:17 am.

_ 'Oh well,' _ he thought.  _ 'The earlier the better, I guess.' _ He sighed, his mouth away from the phone as he used the last card in his up-the-sleeve arsenal. "A large hard pizza with a side of holster will be waiting for the next fifteen minutes. I can't promise this offer will be on the table later, Agent Bristow," he told her sternly.

He heard another rumble over the phone, going from his ear directly to his cock, and he couldn't help but get harder when he realized she'd gotten up and was putting on some clothes.

"Fine," she snapped. "I'll be there in twenty."

With that, their short conversation ended and he briefly did a small, Weiss-like dance. He waited for fifteen minutes before hearing her car pull up through the cracked open door at the front of the building.

Her hair was still tousled from sleep, and there wasn't a trace of make-up on her face. To him, she'd never looked more beautiful. Briefly, he went back to her trying to bribe him out of his plan by announcing that she had been sleeping naked. Every once and a while when he'd come back from a particularly difficult operation, he’d crawl into bed, sore and bone-tired, and come skin to skin with a very naked Sydney. Those were his favorite nights.

As she stepped into the light, he noticed his drawstring pajama pants hanging dangerously low on her hips, the styled, black cotton panties peeking above the waistband. Her favorite maroon camisole was easy to spot, even in the waning light of the warehouse, and his rock-hard erection pressed impatiently against the zipper of his dress pants.

"You'd better have a good excuse for this, Vaughn, I was very much asleep," she growled, tossing open the gate, the heavy metal sliding closed behind her as she looked up at him with fiery brown eyes.

She barely had time to register what was happening as his mouth crashed over hers, his hands tangling in the tresses of her highlighted brown hair, his tongue invading her mouth.

Once she got over the shock of his urgent kiss, she responded with equal fervor. Her own hands slid inside his jacket and found the straps of his holster, using them as leverage to pull his body flush against her own. They broke away to draw in deep ragged breaths before they met once more, mouths and lips dueling as he sucked her tongue into his hot mouth.

She barely felt his hands as they slid from her hair, occasionally getting caught in the strands, moving over her shoulders and down her arms. He pulled away from her swollen mouth with a wet pop, trailing her jawline with his tongue before sucking at the pulse point of her throat. His teeth bit into the sensitive skin between neck and shoulder, and all she could do was groan, her eyes closing against the sensations.

A momentary flick of cold metal against her wrists made her eyes pop open as the handcuffs securely fastened her to the chain-link gate she'd been crushed up against.

"Vaughn…what the-" she wondered, looking with wide, lust-filled eyes up at her lover.

He'd managed to handcuff both of her hands together, using a second pair to attach the dangling chain between both cuffs to the fence behind her. Swaying the small set of keys in front of her eyes, she watched with bated breath as he crossed to a table about seven feet away, placing the keys neatly on the tattered, worn surface.

"How are you going to get free, Agent Bristow?" he asked, his voice sensually ragged as he still sucked air into his starving lungs.

"You've got to be kidding me," she snarled, the lust still circling her irises with a swirl of purple, but the fiery and angry brown shone back at him with feral ferocity.

"Payback's a bitch, isn't it, baby," he grinned with a wink, watching her struggle with the cuffs for a moment before fixing glaring eyes back on him.

"Undo these," she ordered, seeing him shake his head gleefully. "You son of a-"

"Whoa, whoa – this isn't any time for that kind of language. Now, I'm gonna head home and jump into bed. If you want, I'd love for you to join me,"

"But I was already  **_in_ ** bed!" she countered with a yell.

"Well, you didn't have to come out here at all. For goodness' sake, Sydney, it's 4:40 in the morning," he grumbled in reply, lifting her purse and grabbing the keys to her car.

"Wait!" she shouted as he started to walk away. Turning back with a curious gleam in his eyes, she continued. "How the hell am I gonna get home?" she asked, a sudden desperation in her voice intermingling with the anger.

"You're a CIA agent," he turned, walking back to the door where he paused, looking back at his struggling significant other. "You'll think of something," he laughed, closing the door behind him as he jumped into her car, driving the ten minutes back to her apartment.

Once inside, he started setting everything up. Sydney, being an insanely efficient agent, shouldn't take too long to get out of those cuffs. Especially since he'd left the keys a mere seven or so feet away. He'd only have a few minutes before she was free, and knowing her, she'd probably walk (or run) the entire way back, her anger smoldering and steaming.

In short, "she's gonna be ready to blow her freakin' top," he muttered to himself, grabbing the lighter from the drawer in the kitchen and lighting the stress-releasing candles he'd strategically placed around the room. His mind flicked over to Francie and Will, and he jogged over to their bedroom.

Placing his ear against the door, he didn't hear anything unusual, but he also didn't hear the sound of a sleeping couple. Cracking it open, the small ray of light from the living room bathed the bed in a soft glow. It was made, complete with pillows at the headboard, and he broke out into a large, beaming smile before closing it once more.

Shedding his jacket quickly, opening the closet door and tossing it in, he struggled for a moment with his holster, toeing off his shoes and kicking them into a corner. Removing it completely in order to take off the crisp, button-up shirt, he tossed the garment over the back of the couch before sliding his arms back into the straps of leather, fastening it around his waist. Stumbling while shedding his pants, he made his way to the bedroom to see the bed neatly turned down, his side messy while her side looked barely slept in.

His heart warmed slightly at the thought of Sydney sleeping on his pillow while he was away. Much like him spraying a bit of her perfume on his sleep shirt for those particularly long nights where he waited for elusive sleep to come. Of course, he'd never let her know that – or Weiss, for obvious reasons – but he found some consolation in the fact that she had missed him almost as much as he’d missed her.

Spreading the wrinkles out of the bottom sheet, he whipped off the heavy coverlet and tossed it haphazardly onto the floor at the foot of the bed. Sitting on the edge he pulled off his socks, chucking them into the nearly full laundry basket before standing and removing his boxers, his hard-on springing out and standing to attention. Piling the pillows up against the backboard, he climbed from the bottom of the bed to the top, the cool sheets a startling contrast to his hot skin.

Resting calmly against the ornate wood, his eyes couldn't help but focus on the open door as he rested, in all of his glory, wearing nothing but his holster and an erection.

"Son of a bitch!" she growled, his laughter cut off abruptly by the closing of the heavy iron door.

_ 'Honestly, I guess I do deserve it after what I did to him after he left on the mission,' _ her mind argued, though she was far too angry to listen to her rational side.

Her eyes scanned the area around her, and despite the blood rushing in her ears, she was able to see an abandoned chair beside her. Using her feet, she tipped the seat over, a loud bang echoing in the empty warehouse as the metal met the cement. Edging it forward until the back of the chair was underneath the table, she pushed the leg and turned it slightly toward her.

The back was now at a ninety-degree angle around the table leg, and, kicking a flip-flop off to curl her toe around the small metal bar between the two front legs of the folding chair, she pulled. The position was awkward and the cuffs dug into her hands. Though he'd left enough room for it not to be painful, there wasn't nearly enough room for her hands to slip through.

Pulling until the corner of the table got wedged inside one of the diamond-shaped holes of the fencing, she used the shoeless foot to reach up and grab the keys, her big toe curling around the ring and getting a firm grasp. Snatching them off of the table, she bent her leg back until she kicked her bound hands, her long fingers grabbing the keys. She struggled for a moment, turning her neck in an uncomfortable angle to try and see where her fingers were going.

She finally heard the pop of the lock, her right hand free from the confining metal. Turning quickly, she undid the left and – grabbing her purse – made her way out of the warehouse. The sky to the east was a pale blue, and she glanced at her watch to confirm that it was indeed time for the sun to come up: 5:00 am.

During her thirty-minute walk back to the apartment she'd managed to cool down a bit, but the intense heat between her legs had increased significantly. Vaughn wouldn't have just left her there to go home and wash the dishes, he had to be planning something. Quite frankly, she was excited as hell.

Of course, she could get home to find him wrapped up in a warm blanket sleeping soundly.

"Nah," she muttered to herself. Ignoring the various catcalls from the few cars that did drive by, she wondered why she hadn't thought to throw a t-shirt on over her camisole.

_ 'Well, it wasn't like I'd planned on getting handcuffed to a fence tonight,' _ she contradicted her mind, once against arguing with herself. Coming up to the front door of the apartment, she saw nothing in the front window.

"You've gotta be kidding me," she growled, trying the doorknob and finding it unlocked. Tossing it open, she saw his shoes were kicked into the corner alongside hers. Nothing much out of place, his shirt was tossed over the back of the couch - and upon further inspection, she opened the closet door to see his jacket laying on the floor atop her gym bag.

"Michael Christopher Vaughn, you had better be awake," she shouted, slipping out of the flip-flops and shoving them into the corner, making her way to the bedroom.

The door was open and a faint flickering of candlelight illuminated the hallway. Walking into the room, she stopped in her tracks to see Michael languidly sprawled across the bed, his naked body looking like a golden god in the dancing light of the flickering candles. He was still wearing his holster, his hand openly stroking his still engorged cock, catching her eyes as she watched him.

"Took you a bit longer than I'd expected," he commented, his voice catching as the tip of his thumb circled the crown of his erection, the bead of moisture reflecting the light.

"You know, you really didn't have to go through all the trouble. I was already warm in that very bed," she commented wryly, her fingers slowly moving up to undo the hair she'd tossed up in a ponytail after searching desperately for a hair tie in her purse. Letting the strands fall around her shoulders, she watched him squirm on the bed as his fingers continued the gentle massage, moving down to cup his sac momentarily before moving north once more to circle the shaft.

Her hands skimmed her chest, slowly working down her abs until she reached the hem of her light shirt. Lifting it inch by inch, she took her time. Moving at a snail's pace when slipping it over her head, giving him an ample view of her bare chest, her nipples perking out in both arousal and as a reaction to the cool circulating air within the apartment.

Moving to the drawstring pants, she undid the bow with a flick of her wrist and shimmied out of them, leaving the garment pooled at her feet. She stood with the black cotton panties snugly fitted to her waist, her fingers hooking the elastic and tugging them down to join the rest of her clothes on the floor.

At the sight of her completely nude and standing in front of him, he involuntarily gave a quick squeeze to the shaft of his cock, blood pooling at the base and making the tip turn purple until he let go. Letting go with a grunt, he sat up and slid his feet off the edge of the bed. Reaching out to her, she walked the few feet forward and used the leather straps of his holster to pull herself closer. His mouth instantly went for her bellybutton, tongue tracing the edge before dipping in, only to leave her navel and travel up to her breasts.

Licking each peak affectionately, he buried his nose into the valley between, his hands gripping the tops of her thighs, spreading them a few inches. His ring finger followed the crack of her backside until it opened up to her moist center, slipping between her folds and locating her swollen button easily.

Teasing her gently with soft strokes, her hands clung to his shoulders to keep herself from falling over. She felt the stubble of his cheeks and chin as his mouth sucked on the racing pulse point between her collar bones, one trailing down to his stomach where his hardness curved up, the head resting above his belly button. She swirled a finger around the tip, spreading the pearly pre-come as she took it in her hand with a gentle grip.

He groaned, his mouth leaving her skin to be replaced by a hot rush of air, cooling her heated flesh. Driving two fingers up into her trembling core, she cried out before falling against him, her feet slipping as the small rug beside the bed gave way to the slick wood surface of the floor.

She laughed as he caught her, rolling mid-catch until he ended up above her with a large smile splitting his face.

"I missed you," he murmured, nuzzling his nose against her cheek before she turned her head and captured his mouth with her own.

"You too," she spoke between kisses, his invading tongue making her eyes close as they sought to memorize each other's taste.

She felt him jab against her stomach, and pressing up with her hips she informed him that she was ready. Still, he took his time with his mouth and hands, re-exploring the contours of her body. Grabbing his erection in his fist, he pointed it toward her opening and teased her before pressing the head in slowly. Once the tip was in, surrounded by her warmth, he pulled away completely and repeated the process. Each time, only allowing an inch or so to enter her body.

"Vaughn," she growled, though it was something akin to a moan, and he chuckled from above her.

As soon as she opened her eyes to glare at him, he thrust with his hips and his entire length dove its way into her scorching heat. She gasped, mouth and eyes open wide as he grinned, pulling back and hammering into her once more. Though he was content to watch her beneath him, her body was too tight for his eyes to remain open. Concentrating all of his energy on pleasing the woman below him, his hands moved from their position beside her head and dipped down to her waist. This pressed his upper body into hers, and her hands quickly found their place over his shoulder blades.

The pace quickened, one arm propping himself up as the other traced her body. He ran a finger over her cheek, moving to her lips to examine their fullness. As soon as the pad of his finger touched her mouth she reacted. Placing a wet kiss to the digit, her tongue lapping at it momentarily, he opened his eyes and found her staring up at him.

With a smile of his own, he leaned in and pressed a heated kiss to her mouth. He could feel her beginning to contract around him, her internal muscles waiting to milk him dry, and his hips sped up as if they had a mind of their own. Pushing himself up over her, her hands rhythmically clenching his shoulders, he began to piston in and out of her warm, tight body.

"God, Michael," she panted, pressing her face into his throat as his cock began to pulse against her walls. Squeezing one last time before she imploded.

Crying out, her fingers wrapping around the leather over his back, she tumbled off of the cliff. Vaughn followed after a few quick thrusts before collapsing over her body, each gasping for air.

"Good  _ god _ , woman, you're gonna  _ kill  _ me," he muttered, his mouth kissing her neck with a loud smack.

She merely laughed, pushing his chest up as the holster began to dig into her stomach. "As much as I love it, it's killin' me,"

Slipping it from his shoulders it was tossed to the floor. Vaughn pulled out and away from her, reaching for the blankets on the floor at the foot of the bed. A loud smack on his backside made him yelp, turning to face her with shocked eyes, one hand tugging at the comforter and the other rubbing the red hand-print showing on the sensitive skin of his rear.

"What the hell was that for?!"

"Handcuffing me to a gate," she growled, pulling him in for one last kiss and snuggling into his shoulder.

"Well, you deserved it," he countered, stifling a yawn after pressing a kiss to her hair.

"That doesn't matter."

"Yeah…yeah it does," he grumbled, each half asleep as their argument dimmed to heated whispers. "I didn't say that I didn't enjoy it, but still. Torture has its limits, and now you know what to avoid if you're not looking forward to handcuffs and holsters."

"Well when you put it like that," she grinned before falling asleep, her cheek resting against the warm flesh of his shoulder as his arms wrapped around her waist, his fingers moving lightly over her skin as he joined her in the world of slumber.

**…**


	4. Undeniable

"You don't have to go, you know," Sydney coaxed as she leaned against Vaughn's desk, arms crossed over her chest.

"Syd, come on. How often do you and I go on separate missions?" he asked, turning and looking over at her from where his hands were shoving folders filled to the brim with papers into his briefcase.

"Hardly ever," she grumbled, looking down to her shoes as she tilted her foot up and ground her heel into the floor.

"It's only two weeks," he started only to be interrupted by the pouting woman.

"Yeah, two weeks of an extremely dangerous mission that could get you killed," she countered, her voice low as her eyes kept their focus on the spackled gray floor of the JTF. "Why wasn't I tasked with you?"

"Syd, I can take care of myself, you know this," pausing and taking a furtive glance around the room, he pulled her into their corner. "What is this really about?"

"Vaughn, we just started dating, and I don't want all of this to get ruined. It's not like I've had a great track record with guys - you know that. I…I just don't want to know what it was like for you when I went out on missions," she admitted, seeing his eyes crinkle with a smile.

"That constant fear of not knowing what's happening?" he asked, finishing her sentence.

"Yeah," she muttered, her arms still crossed defensively over her stomach. She felt his hands grasp her elbows and pull her close, finally releasing her arms to wrap around his shoulders. "I'll miss you," she smiled and breathed in his unique scent, her nose pressed against his neck.

"Hey, I'm coming back; you have to know that by now. We didn't fight so long just to have me die on some meaningless op," he grinned and pulled back, seeing the faint edge of tears in her eyes. "Syd, don't cry, okay? There's nothing to be worried about. I've got Weiss as back up," he promised, his hand reaching up to cup her cheek tenderly as she let out a small laugh.

"Oh, yeah, that's reassuring," she mocked, leaning in and pressing a kiss to his mouth, her tongue tracing the line of his upper lip momentarily before pulling back. "Be safe."

"I will," he promised, turning and leaving her in their little hideaway.

She watched him walk away, gathering his things up from his desk before she left the room and ran headlong into Weiss.

"God, Syd, sorry. Totally wasn't looking where I was going," he apologized with a quick smile, bending down to pick up his Mission Folder from where it had landed on the floor. "See ya when we get back," he grinned and turned to follow Vaughn to Marshall's office for Op Tech gear.

"Hey, Eric?"

"Uh-oh, first name," he joked, but past the smile on his face she saw the seriousness in his eyes.

"Can you keep him safe for me?"

"Syd, I'm the one that got shot in the neck last time. You might ask him to protect me," Weiss tried to brush aside her favor, chalking it up to nerves on her part, but the pleading look she managed to squeeze from her doe-like eyes went straight to his heart.

Setting a comforting hand to her shoulder, he winked and went into Marshall's office. She'd retreated to her desk, determined to try and get something done, but not ten minutes had passed before a small message had appeared on her screen.

_ \- Zone 4, forty seconds. I'm counting. - _

A grin spread across her face as she stood, trying to keep her excitement at bay before walking calmly toward a back hallway. They'd named this secret little spot Zone Four because it was the fourth storage room in a line of six. Miscellaneous items filled the shelves in troves, and neither of them could muster up enough courage to admit to having sex in a janitor’s closet, so giving it a new name seemed only proper.

Zone Four had seen plenty of action over the last few months, and as she moved closer to the door – which was ajar – she couldn't help but feel the anticipation pool between her legs.

She opened and stepped into the closet, closing it securely behind her. Before it even had a chance to latch she felt his arms wrap around her waist, his hands splaying across her flat stomach as they skirted underneath the dark blazer. He let out a disappointed grunt when he found that her blouse was tucked into the top of her skirt and she couldn't help but laugh.

She tried to turn in his arms, but his constant grip on her waist kept her facing away from him. With an exasperated sigh she reached her arms back and ran one across his cheek while the other cupped the back of his head, her fingers toying with the hair at the nape of his neck.

As his hands undid the buttons of her blouse, leaving it tucked firmly in the top of her skirt, he slid the blazer from her shoulders and pulled back far enough for it to land on his feet between them.

"I've only got ten minutes, so we'd better not play around," he spoke into her ear, his low voice making her tremble against him with hardly contained eagerness. "As much as I'd like to."

She could hear the regret in his voice and smiled, though she knew he couldn't see it in the darkness of the room. Managing to turn in his arms, she moved backward until her thighs bumped into the edge of the stack of crates in the corner. Using the top one as leverage, she hoisted herself up and through the dim light underneath the door – and her adjusting eyes – she saw his silhouette and reached out for him.

He found her hand and guided his body between her open legs. "I'm glad you wore a skirt today," he smiled, leaning forward and reaching his hands into the gaping openness of Syd's blouse to feel her beneath his palms. The muscles of her firm stomach jumped when his hands caressed her soft skin, her moan being cut short as his mouth fastened over hers.

Though the closet wasn't as comfortable as some of the places they'd had sex in, the seclusion and privacy – especially at work – made it ideal. His hands drifted down, pulling the shirt from her waistband before running down her bent thighs, her legs instantly wrapping around his hips and locking behind his backside.

His tongue thrust up into her mouth as her hands skimmed over his fully clothed chest and down to his tenting trousers. Wasting no time in undoing the zipper, she reached her hand in and found the hole at the front of his boxers. Gripping him and fisting two or three times, he couldn't help but push up into her hand with a few small thrusts.

He reached up behind her, his hand sliding underneath to pull her closer to the edge of the crate, one hand sliding between her outstretched legs to find her wet and ready. Sliding her panties aside and inserting his tongue in her mouth, he pushed quickly into her warmth.

She gasped at the sudden intrusion in both ends of her body, her fingers tangling through his hair as he pulled back and slammed to the hilt into her warm channel. The pace was quick and frenzied, and he desperately tried to ignore his watch when it beeped, indicating that their time together was spent before either of them were.

Her hand reached down between them, fingers spreading around his pumping cock as he gasped against her light touch. Moving north, her fingers began to play with her clit and he tilted his head down wishing he could see exactly what she was doing to herself. Her other hand cupped the back of his neck and pulled him up to her mouth, their lips clashing as her walls began to tighten around his shaft, squeezing him in preparation for their impending climaxes.

Their mouths parted with a smack and he groaned against her lips as her fingers moved from their clutched position at the back of his neck to his shoulders, the fingers of her other hand moving from her own pleasure center to a splayed position against his taut lower stomach. Her nails scratched back and forth, caressing the sprinkling of hair on his abdomen as her body convulsed around his, pulling his orgasm from his body in hot spurts.

"God, Michael," she groaned, burying her face into his throat and nibbling at his moist skin, his body leaning heavily against hers as his watch went off once more.

"Just in time?" Sydney giggled breathlessly, pulling back and looking down at him.

"Actually it went off about five minutes ago, I just ignored it." He smiled, leaning in to brush a kiss to her swollen mouth before pressing the button to make the incessant noise stop.

"You're late," she mumbled, feeling him soften in her body and already regretting that their coupling was over.

"Yeah, sure am," he conceded, pulling her close for another quick – yet wet – kiss before moving away and tackling the task of fixing his clothing in the poor if not complete lack of light that filtered into the small room.

They quickly buttoned all their buttons, zipped the zippers, Vaughn feeling Sydney's hands dive into his coat pocket and depositing something before she opened the door to the hallway and sauntered out, blowing him a kiss and a wink as he quickly tried to adjust his belt and holster.

Feeling the lump against his side, his curiosity got the better of him until he heard her shout, "don't look 'till you're on the plane. It's a surprise!" He sighed and brought his hand back down from its position above said pocket.

Two hours later, sitting with Eric on a stuffy CIA jet, he found himself pouring over papers of their mission.

"Dude, where did you go after tech op? You just disappeared," Eric asked without looking up from his reading, both of their jackets cast aside as they sat comfortably in their button-up shirts.

"I went to say goodbye to Syd," he spoke cryptically.

"For twelve and a half minutes?" Again, there's no look on Eric's face, not even one of feigned ignorance.

"Wait, you timed us? I mean…me? Y-you timed me?" Vaughn finally broke the paper-work-stare-down to look up at his friend with a curious and annoyed gaze.

"Look, I've kept your little Zone 4 a secret, but if you and Syd keep leaving the messages up on your computer screens, all the wrong people are gonna start getting suspicious." Looking briefly over at his friend and fixing him with a small smirk, Weiss dipped back down into his paperwork, propping his head up with his hand.

Vaughn just let out a frustrated sigh, though a small smirk made his lips twitch as he thought back to the feeling of Sydney around him in their secret janitor's closet.

"I thought you'd made a pact never to have sex in a closet after what happened last time," Weiss' voice made him jump back into the present as he looked over at his friend with a large smile.

"That's why we renamed it 'Zone 4,'" Vaughn replied.

"Oh, like that makes a difference," Eric growled, and again their bickering was directed at the folders and files rather than at each other. The dim light flickered as the plane hit some turbulence, but evened out after a few seconds of small jaunts and jolts. "Was it good?"

"Was what good?" Vaughn asked, keeping a monotone voice to avoid further inquiry.

"C'mon, man, I live vicariously through you – you know that. Hell, if I was the one gettin' laid in a janitor's closet-"

"Zone 4," Vaughn interrupted.

"Whatever; I'd be shoutin' it so the world could hear."

"Yeah, well – fortunately for the world, you're not 'getting laid in a janitor's closet.'" Using the hand-quotes as punctuation, the friends mutually frowned at one another, Eric's set in a goofy death glare – possibly intent on mimicking Jack Bristow – and Vaughn's held a certain amount of humor behind his cocky smirk and raised eyebrows.

"So you're not gonna tell me anything?" Weiss whined, Vaughn's laugh echoing through the fuselage.

"It was sex with Sydney; how could it not be great? Happy now?"

"No," Eric growled, reaching out for another folder with a huff.

"You gonna throw a fit?" Michael questioned, his eyes scanning the page and flipping it, merely one more done out of an additional fifty in waiting.

"Maybe," Eric drew the word out.

"Oh shit!" Vaughn exclaimed, setting his pen down and rifling around through his trousers to locate something.

"What?" Eric asked, setting his things down, concern etched across his face.

"Donovan! I completely forgot to ask Syd if she'd feed him for me," he fumbled around some more before remembering that his phone was tucked away in his jacket. "Can you grab my phone for me? It's in the inside pocket of my jacket."

"Sure," Weiss turned, lifting Vaughn's coat as he stuck his hand into the pocket. A look of complete surprise crossed his face, a wide smile following as he felt rumpled silk against his fingertips.

"You sure your phone's in here?" he asked as Vaughn stood, searching through his pockets once more.

"It has to be unless I left it sitting on my desk," he growled, seeing Eric pull a lacy pair of white and pink panties from his coat. Pure humiliation crossed his face as Weiss swayed them back and forth.

"Looks like someone kept a memento from his romp in the JC," Weiss smirked.

"Dammit, Weiss, give me those," he reached out, Eric jumping from the seat and taunting him from the middle of the aisle.

"Oooh, look-ee-here! I see London; I see France!"

"Have you two suddenly reverted back to elementary school?" Jack Bristow's booming voice filled the air as both men focused on the Senior Agent as he stood at the front of the plane. "I'll pretend I never saw those,  **_Agent_ ** Vaughn, if you get them out of Mr. Weiss' hands immediately," he ordered before turning and making his way back to the closed-off front of the plane.

"Damn you, Eric," Vaughn snarled, snatching the panties from Weiss's hands as his larger friend chuckled, handing Vaughn his cell phone and getting back to work.

"Don't blame me, man, it's Sydney's fault. At least it wasn't Jack that found 'em," he defended himself as Vaughn made his way to the back of the plane to call his aforementioned significant other.

After two rings she answered breathlessly. "Bristow."

"You know, I kinda wish you'd warned me about the panties in the pocket before I asked Weiss to find my cell phone," Vaughn's clearly disgruntled voice made her smile, despite his previous statement.

"Well, maybe you should have thought twice about accepting a two-week mission to Germany," she deadpanned and leaned against a tree to catch her breath.

"Where are you?" Though filled with static, his question came through.

"Just out for a run, you?" she asked, stretching her legs a bit to keep the muscles warm.

"Just got yelled at by your father for Eric flashing your undies in the fuselage of the plane," he told her.

"Oh my god…did…did my dad-"

"Oh yeah, and he was mighty pissed. I suppose it serves you right. Though I'm sure I'll be the one to get punished for your little sleight-of-hand. Anyway - getting off the subject of your father catching me with your panties in my coat pocket, I need to ask you a favor," he changed the subject.

"Sure, what's up?"

"Can you feed Donovan for me? He's my dog, and I kinda forgot about him in the rush to leave," he asked with a small smile on his face as Eric made kissy-faces at him as he knelt over the back of his chair. Flipping him off Vaughn turned away and ducked into the small lavatory, closing the door behind him.

She paused, a brilliant smile plastering her face. "Sure, but, Vaughn I don't have a key."

"Well, this was going to be a surprise, but in my drawer – toward the bottom – you'll see a little gift-wrapped box. Don't open the box," he ordered, his eyes narrowing. "Promise me you won't open it, it's your birthday present,"

"My birthday isn't for another month," she chastised, though butterflies danced through her stomach at the thought of Vaughn finding her gift early because he couldn't wait.

"Swear to me-"

"Vaughn, you're acting like a little kid," she laughed at him.

"Promise me, Syd," he said again.

"Okay; alright! I promise I won't look in the box!"

"Okay. Open up the card and inside you should find a key to my apartment. Which is half the surprise, but oh well. I kinda need my dog to be fed over the next two weeks," he grinned, hearing her soft laugh over the phone.

"Okay. What do I feed him and where is it?"

"It's in the kitchen, three cabinets to the left and under the sink. A can of the wet stuff then half a can of the dry stuff. Half a can only, I don't wanna come home to a fat dog," he grumbled, hearing Eric's muffled "asshole" from the other room.

"Promise. No fat dog, and no present peeking."

"Okay, I gotta go. I'll call you soon, okay?"

"Okay," she replied.

"Oh, and Sydney," he paused, knowing she was still there.

"Yeah?"

"Tonight your panties and I are gonna have a little interlude of our own, and I promise I'll be thinking of you when I jack off," he heard her intake of breath, knowing that ever since she'd found him pleasuring himself the night she'd come home early from a mission, it had been something that completely turned her on. "Just to let you know."

"You son of a-" Was all he heard as he hung up the phone with a chuckle, walking back to the table where Eric continued to mock him about the closet.

Sydney walked into Vaughn's apartment intent on looking through every book, magazine, and/or photo album to her satisfaction. She'd never been there before, but she felt as if she knew exactly where everything was because she knew  **him** . Closing the door behind her she heard a low rumbled growl from the dark foyer.

"Oh great," she mumbled, trying in vain to search out a light. "Vaughn, your dog better not be a man-eater or it's over," she muttered to herself, feeling a set of teeth bite into her bare calf. She yelped and jumped away before finding the light and flipping it on to show a small – and slightly overweight – bulldog glaring over at her, his little pointy teeth showing up behind his flappy lips.

"Donovan, I'm here to feed you!" she grumbled seeing a few little puncture points begin to dribble blood. "You hungry?"

His floppy ears perked up as much as they could, and he became an instant best friend to the young woman. She squatted down as he moved forward into her body, jumping up and licking at her face as she laughed and stood, moving into the kitchen.

Rummaging around and finding everything she needed to feed to Donovan, he stood in the kitchen gobbling up his dinner as she walked over to the impressive bookcase. He had almost everything she did in her reading arsenal and she smiled while touching several of the hard-backed books she hadn't yet acquired.

Reaching the mantle over the faux fireplace, she started on the left and made her way picture by picture. Most of the people showed she didn't know, but she was pretty sure that one was him and his mother – he looked relatively the same so it had to be a recent one – and next to that with a small candle in front of it was a picture of William Vaughn. He was wearing his uniform, though that was the only professional air around him. In his arms was a smiling little boy that she guessed to be around six years old. His front top tooth was missing, leaving a large gap that was easy to spot.

His shining green eyes and tiny dimpled chin made Sydney smile sadly at the framed photo, knowing the outcome of that particular story. Moving on, she laughed aloud at a funny picture of Weiss and Vaughn in a fight on the ice. Eric had Vaughn pinned to the cold floor of the rink, his fist poised above the sandy blonde head as Michael reached out to stop him from pummeling him in the face.

Someone must have called out because Weiss had looked up from what he was doing in time to smile his patented goofball smile in the middle of his beat-down.

There was one serious picture of the two of them at what she assumed to be Langley, decked out in fine suits with a rigid posture, saluting the American flag.

Finally, at the end, she recognized her own smiling face and remembered when Vaughn had taken the picture. She'd been sitting at her desk all night working on something for Kendall – intel her mother had acquired – and since the large bald man figured that she was the best in the office to deal with anything that came from Irina Derevko's mouth, she was automatically tasked to the job.

Meaning she had to miss a dinner-date with Vaughn. She'd called to let him know, as well as apologize, and heard the disappointment in his voice when he reassured her that they'd find some other time to have a real date. He'd shown up two hours later with a small rose, finding her at her desk rubbing the sleep from her eyes. The moment he'd called her name she'd smiled and turned to look over at him, her chin propped up in her hand.

The flash went off and he snapped the picture with a grin before handing her the rose and kissing her forehead, sneakily setting a sandwich in front of her.

_ " I just figured that we could have our date here," he explained. _

She smiled at the memory and moved on, seeing Donovan finished with his dinner and lying in the middle of the linoleum floor on his back, his legs spread out and his tongue lolling out of his mouth.

_ 'I wonder where his room is,' _ she thought quickly, a small smile forming at her lips. Walking down the hallway she found it easily. The large, king-sized bed was in the middle of the room, and though it wasn't anything fancy or even what you could call stylish, his room – in addition to his entire apartment – was completely Vaughn. Everything he had in the relatively large space accented his personality to a tee, and she decided that even if she was given the chance she wouldn't change a thing.

She snooped around a bit before sitting on the edge of the large bed as her phone rang from her pocket.

***Vaughn***

The name blinked at her and she smiled, pushing the call button.

"Your dog bit me," she answered instead of her usual hello.

"He did? Well, that's not like him. What did you do, kick him?" Vaughn asked with a chuckle, though concern was evident in his voice.

"Nope. Just walked in and heard him growl," the muttered, falling back onto the soft bed beneath her. "Bit my leg before I turned the light on. I mentioned food, however, and suddenly we're best friends."

"Well, you'll live. Where are you now?" he questioned, stretching out on one of the extended chairs in the plane, Weiss' snoring echoing off of the walls.

"I'm still at your place. I snooped around a bit, hope you don't mind," she told him casually.

"Nah. Find anything interesting?"

"Nah," she copied, standing and making her way from his room back out to the living area, Donovan still sprawled out on the floor. "I don't know what you were worried about, anyway."

"What do you mean?" he frowned, closing his eyes as the wrinkles popped out on his forehead.

"He's already fat. I don't think me overfeeding him will make have much of an impact," she laughed.

"Ha, ha, very funny. You have any plans tonight?"

"Nope. Just by myself, all alone in my apartment," she left off suggestively, an idea forming in her head. "As lame as it is I'll probably just go home and go to bed."

"Well, I'll let you go. I need to find some earplugs or figure out some way to make Weiss' snoring stop," Vaughn grumbled, looking over at his friend as he reclined in his seat, his mouth hanging open permitting the abrasive grunts and snorts to leave between his lips.

"Okay. Be safe and call me when you land," she smiled into the phone, even though he couldn't see it.

"Promise." He clicked the end button, snuggling deeper into the leather cushions to try and find some rest, settling his phone on his chest in case she called him before drifting to sleep.

Sydney hung up the phone with a sly smile while moving back around the end of the couch, reaching his bedroom in a matter of seconds. Moving toward the digital camera she'd seen sitting on his desk, she set it up on the edge, pointing toward the bed. Tilting the small screen up, she smiled wide when the perfect angle appeared. Setting the camera to take a picture every ten seconds, she readied it and then moved around to sit on the bed.

"Jack to this, big guy," she grinned, the first flash going off as her fingers began to lift up the hem of her t-shirt.

Vaughn awoke groggily at a vibrating sensation on his chest and looked down at his phone reproachfully. It wasn't a ring, merely a text message, and he opened it slowly in an effort to force his brain to remember which buttons to push.

SYDNEY: Your bed is comfy

Was all it said, and he confirmed that the message was indeed from Sydney. A surge of excitement went straight from his heart to his cock as he re-read the words carefully.

_ 'She's in my bed. She's sleeping in my bed,' _ he thought to himself as he broke into a full-on grin.

Sitting up completely, he fumbled around for a few minutes trying to send a message back.

YOU: Wht r u doing in my bed

Not the best grammar or punctuation, but he didn't care. The only tangible thought going through his head was, 'Is she naked?' His phone buzzed back, her message coming up with a quick push of the button.

SYDNEY: Resting

"Well that's cryptic," he whispered to himself, keeping his voice low to keep from waking Weiss.

YOU: I thot u were going home

A few seconds passed before she answered back.

SYDNEY: Your bed seemed comfyr

YOU: Bad grammr frm the Eng major

SYDNEY: Bite me

YOU: ok

After a long interlude in their texting conversation, her message showed up.

SYDNEY: I'm gonna go. Do you have wireless internet up there?

YOU: think so. Y

SYDNEY: You should check your email

YOU: k. Syd u can sty there if u want

SYDNEY: I know. Nite

YOU: nite

Vaughn stood after pocketing his cell phone, apprehension and bit of excitement filling him as he walked over to the table where the laptop sat and grabbed it quickly. Sneaking it back to his seat he opened the lid quickly. After three desperate attempts at typing in the correct password, he managed to get to the main screen.

"Wait…which one?" he wondered aloud, grabbing his cell from his pocket and leaving her a quick message.

YOU: whch 1

Vaughn waited for a couple of minutes thinking that maybe she'd turned off her phone and slipped back into his bed for a night of rest. He could check both, but the security of checking his work e-mail was a pain to get past.

SYDNEY: ours

He grinned, connecting the wireless internet and typing in the address to Yahoo!™.

A few seconds later,  **BoyScout1** logged in and read the wonderful note that said  **You have 2 new messages** .

Opening the mailbox quickly, he clicked on the first one, noticing that the second had several large attachments.

**BoyScoutsGirlScout**

_ Sweet dreams, Vaughn. _

_ Love, Syd _

That was the entire message. Deleting it quickly, he opened the next and clicked attachment 1 of 20.  _ 'Damn, what the hell are you up to,' _ he wondered as the picture loaded on his screen.

It was just an ordinary picture of her, sitting on the edge of his bed with a small smile, wearing his favorite green t-shirt. She'd asked him once why it was his favorite, and he merely replied that it wasn't long enough and he enjoyed the sight of her belly button playing peek-a-boo with him.

She was in a pair of khaki shorts that fell a little above the middle of the thighs, though the way she was sitting on the bed forced the material up a bit higher. It was a cute picture but he briefly wondered what else she had in store for him.

Opening the next picture, it showed her lifting her shirt up, her entire stomach being shown. He'd already studied each defined abdominal muscle, but that didn't mean that his hands weren't itching to fondle the screen in front of him. His plane ride just got a whole lot more interesting.

Finally, in the fifth picture, she was perched on the edge of his bed in nothing but her shorts, her fingers massaging her breasts lightly, the dark nipples sticking out from between her pointer and middle fingers. The tightness against his zipper was almost unbearable, but he knew he couldn't just whip it out in the middle of the flight.

_ 'Think of what Weiss would say. Or worse – Jack Bristow. He'd shoot me in the face,' _ Vaughn thought, his hand periodically slipping down to rub at the bulge in his trousers, moving to the next picture.

Number eight was interesting. Striking a pose that she had to have learned from a mission in a strip club, her fingers had moved from her breasts to her stomach, then finally to the waistband of her shorts.

Number eight: The top button.

Number nine: The zipper.

Number ten: the shorts around her ankles.

No panties. None. His cock twitched, begging to be set free as he looked over at his discarded coat where he knew her panties were safely tucked away before turning back to the screen.

It was then that he came across page eleven - his favorite so far. A completely naked Sydney Bristow lounging on his bed. The angle of the camera had changed a little bit and the zoom had definitely been used. He could still see his comforter of course, but there was unquestionably more skin than cloth in the shot. It was very erotic.

Leaving that window open he clicked on the next picture, his heart slamming to a near stop against his rib cage and his trousers become slightly moist with a sudden spurt of liquid from the tip of his erection into the soft yet tight material of his pants.

Sydney had positioned herself with her back against his headboard, one leg lying flat on the bed and the other pulled up with her heel resting against her backside, her knee jutting up to lean alongside her arm. As much as he enjoyed her legs, they weren't entirely what his eyes had been drawn to. While one hand was occupied with her breasts, paying close attention to her taut, perky nipples, the other had meandered down toward her soft, exposed mound.

Her first and ring finger had spread her outer lips apart, showing the camera the pink interior of her folds.

Flipping quickly to the next picture, she was much in the same position except that her eyes were closed, and her sweet pouted lips were in a tight circle, and her two first fingers were obviously massaging her clit.

"Oh, god-" he groaned as he opened the next and saw her fingers glistening in the dim light of his bedroom from the pooling wetness between her legs.

"Vaughn? You okay?" Weiss' voice broke through the haze that was his mind. Closing the pictures and quickly slamming the lid to the laptop closed, he stood abruptly and jogged for the bathroom.

"Eric, you open that up and I'll kill you," he growled with a turn, catching a curious Weiss making his way over to where he'd been sitting before. His friend held up his hands in defense, backing up to where he'd been seated and flopped down into his recently abandoned chair as Vaughn closed and locked the door of the restroom.

His hands immediately went to his tented dress pants to relieve the pressure building up in his lower half. Yanking the zipper down - ignoring button and belt - his erection popped out from the new opening to slap against his stomach. Hastily grabbing the shaft in one hand, the other reaching down to squeeze at his taut balls, Vaughn began the age-old pumping rhythm.

His hips bucked up to meet his hand, and a solid yank down mixed with a pinch to his sensitive tip made his orgasm explode; biting his tongue to hold in his groan. It wasn't until he calmed his breathing down and found his heartbeat before opening his eyes and realizing that he'd made a complete mess of the sink, the wall, and the mirror in front of him.

"Damn it," he growled, grabbing a hunk of toilet paper and cleaning off his hands and wilting member. After shoving himself back into his still moist trousers, he set off with a paper towel and cleaned up the aftermath of Sydney's e-mailing session.

_ 'You're gonna get it, Syd. You don't even know how much you're gonna get it,' _ he thought before running the sink and splashing some cold water onto his lap, letting out a loud curse before walking from the restroom.

"Watch out, that sink will get ya," he grumbled, using a fresh towel to try and dry his pants.

"Yeah, I can see that." Weiss grinned, leaning back against the headrest as Vaughn reopened the laptop and closed everything, making sure to leave Sydney's revealing e-mail in the saved folder and shutting everything down.

"By the way," Eric grumbled from his half-asleep position on the other side of the plane.

"What?" Vaughn grunted, more of a statement as he settled back onto the long couch.

"I didn't know Syd was that naughty."

"Jackass!" Vaughn snarled, jumping from his seat and tackling his friend in his chair, Eric's mocking laughter filling the air as they continued the flight toward the longest two weeks of Michael Vaughn's life.

…


	5. Surprise, Surprise

"You know, don't you?"

"Sydney, I'm a spy, too. You'll have to torture me for the information," he explained.

"Weiss, please?"

"Oh, no, don't you pull the puppy dog eyes. I've told you too much already-"

"You haven't told me anything!" Sydney said loudly as she glared at her friend, lowering her voice as she noticed the glances of several onlookers.

"No. Mike said he'd shoot me in the balls if I gave away the surprise, and I would like to one day bear offspring."

"You have to get a girlfriend first," she smirked at him mischievously.

Eric laughed, a frown of mock hurt clouding his goofy features as he mouthed 'no' once more before grabbing his file and moving away from the frustrated female.

She sighed, stuffing her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. It was her day off and here she was at work trying desperately to get Weiss to disclose the information contained in a soft velvet box wrapped in shining purple paper – said item lodged deep in the back of Vaughn's drawer.

The only reason she knew it was a velvet box is because she'd undone one end of the package and peeked. But soon, guilt had assailed her and she'd resisted the urge to open it the rest of the way.

"Hey," Vaughn's voice broke her deep concentration as he stood in front of her, his hand waving gently in front of her face before tapping the end of her nose with his index finger. "Whatcha thinkin' about? And what are you doing here? Don't you have the day off?"

"Yeah, but I had to talk to Eric."

"'Bout what?" Vaughn's eye narrowed as he looked around for his friend, not seeing the larger agent in the immediate vicinity.

"Nuthin'," she grinned. "I'll see you later," she winked and walked away from his curious and somewhat cynical glare.

She laughed to herself, determined to locate the birthday present and break her promise not to peek. Since she’d gotten the key out Vaughn had moved it to his apartment, saying  _ ‘it’s too much temptation if I leave it at your place’ _ . Boy was  _ he  _ right. Fingering the key to his apartment as it hung from the ignition, she turned toward his place rather than her own.

She circled the block until finally locating a spot and pulling into it quickly. She greeted Vaughn's neighbor, the fifteen-year-old boy's friend blatantly checking her out until his pal's hand punched him in the side.

“Morning, Sydney,” one squeaked as his voice shifted pitch, a flush of embarrassment on his cheeks. She winked, patting their heads before walking in, skipping the elevator and jogging up the stairs.

The fourth floor - apartment seven - she grabbed her key out and unlocked it, the scampering, clawed feet of the fat bulldog making her smile and crouch down to greet the pint sized protector with a laugh. His tongue smothered her face in one giant slurp as he jumped up into her lap with his front paws perched on her thighs, his stub of a tail wiggled vigorously.

"Easy, Donnie, hop down," she ordered the mutt, his compliance only lasting until she crouched down underneath the sink to locate his stockpile of food. Nearly knocking her over with his excitement, he left a slobbery trail up her bare arm before running over and grabbing his dish, his jowls flopping on either side as he bounced back and forth between his right and left front feet.

She fed him quickly, staring over at the bedroom and having a quick debate with herself.

"It's only two days," she mumbled, settling down into the couch and grabbing the nearest thing to occupy her time with: a hockey magazine. "I can wait two more days," she said in a manner most convincing.

Unfortunately – to herself – it wasn't convincing at all, and with a huff she jumped up and made her way quickly to the bedroom. Marching straight up to the bureau, her hands froze millimeters from the indents that served as makeshift handles.

"I'm a CIA-agent turned excited-five-year-old at Christmas," she growled, flopping back onto his soft bed. She smiled lightly, eyes closing for a moment as she remembered back to the last time she'd been in this very bed doing very naughty things.

Since then, Vaughn had returned the favor in full and thus began their little war with one another. The object of the game: to see who could best whom. As of that particular moment, she was well into the lead, but she was definitely looking forward to the next rematch. Heaving a sigh and rubbing the heels of her hands into her eyes, she sat up and glared over at the chest of drawers.

"Oh, what the hell. I'll act surprised," she mumbled while rising, opening the middle drawer up and reaching into the back. The envelope was still there - though the key had been removed - but unfortunately, the one thing that was missing was the sleek feeling of wrapping paper against her fingertips.

Pulling the drawer out farther, she found the already opened envelope, but that wasn't anything new. What was new, however, was the missing gift.

"Looking for something?" She stilled quickly knowing that even with her best spy attributes put into high gear, there wasn't a chance in hell that she'd be able to talk her way out of this one.

She whipped around to see Vaughn leaning against the doorframe - his jacket removed and his holster squeezing his white button-up shirt against his shoulders. The amused smirk on his face let her know that he'd been there for a while, content to watch her search in vain for the missing present.

"No; why do you ask?"

"Well," he grinned, pushing off of the frame and sliding his hands into his trouser pockets, he moved closer to where she was standing, each step echoing off of the wood floor. "No reason, unless you've got an unnatural fascination with my boxers and socks."

Sure enough, her hands were still buried in his drawer, but she'd only just noticed that it was his underwear drawer. With a sigh, she pulled back as he reached out, closing it with the tips of his fingers, his eyes never leaving her guilty blushing face.

"I wasn't gonna-"

"Yes, you were," he countered with a grin, seeing the glare she tossed him before moving his hands behind his back, his fingers clasping together as he waited patiently for her to attempt to get out of the hole she'd just dug.

"Okay, maybe I was, but you've effectively prevented me from peeking, so victory is yours," she grumbled, walking past him and back out into the hallway, Donovan looking up from his spot on the kitchen floor.

"Well, go me," he cheered, seeing the annoyed look tossed over he shoulder. He grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her into the circle of his arms, his mouth latching over hers as she squeaked in surprise. Donovan's growl went unheeded until the bulldog sunk his pointy little teeth into Vaughn's lower calf.

"Ow!" They snapped apart, their mouths smacking as Michael jumped back, glaring down at the little tank that was his dog.

Donovan stood protectively in front of Sydney, his flappy lips snarling as she laughed from behind her guardian dog.

"I'm your master, you mutt," Vaughn growled, reaching a hand out to Sydney once more, the dog growling when he got too close.

After playing with the over-protective pooch and finding that he couldn’t touch her without the dog reacting, Sydney crouched down and began scrubbing behind the Donovan’s ears.

"Aren't you my little watchdog? Yes, you are," she cooed, taking plenty of slobbering kisses from the animal as he melted, jumping up and down, Vaughn glaring at the both of them.

The ringing of his cell phone made him search out his jacket as Sydney sat cross-legged on his floor, Donovan rolling onto his back so she could rub his potbelly.

"Vaughn," he grumbled, taking a moment to examine the bite on his leg as Weiss' voice echoed through his earpiece.

"Kendall sanctioned the ‘mission’, and I did do the little air quotes on the word mission," he clarified, Vaughn trying desperately to hide his smirk, though his dog and his lover were more interested in one another than the conversation he was having.

"What? Now? Yeah, Syd's here, why?" he started up the conversation, Sydney looking up from her spot on the floor.

"Bet you two are all cozy in bed, huh?" Weiss egged his friend on, hearing Vaughn's pretend sigh as he tried not to comment at his friend's statement.

"I'll let her know."

"Is she naked?"

"Weiss," Vaughn's warning made Sydney frown with a curious grin. "No, I'm not going to be fine with it, her birthday is in a couple of days-"

"Or is she wearing one of those lingerie thingies like on the plane with the scummy French dude?"

"Yeah, I promise…she'll be there soon." Without another word, he snapped his phone closed and looked over as Sydney stood up with a final pat to the fat dog's stomach.

"What's up? Why didn't Weiss just call me if he wanted to ask me something?"

"He said he tried; where's your cell?" he asked, the small lie worth it in the grand scheme of things.

She patted her back pocket, remembering quickly that it was in her purse. "It's in the car. Whoops," she tucked a stray hand behind her ear before looking back up at him. "What did my birthday have to do with anything?"

"Weiss had this contact in Paris that was looking into something Rambaldi related, and it turns out he's coming through with his end of the deal. Kendall approved an op., and you and Weiss are on point. I tried to get him to wait until after your birthday, but hopefully you'll be back in time."

"Damn," she growled, lacing her arms around his neck, her nose rubbing against his playfully. "I guess I'll just have to wait to see my present after all," she grinned and kissed him, their mouths melding together.

She was the first to pull back, a large smile gracing her swollen lips as she untangled herself from his clinging hands.

"You'll have to wait until I get back for the rest," she grinned, stepping out of his arms and out through the front door, Donovan following until stopped by the barrier between him and the hallway.

With a whine, he settled himself in front of the closed door, looking back at Vaughn with such a sad expression that he almost felt bad for the dog. Almost - if the teeth marks in his calf weren't still tingling with a reminder that his pet was no longer loyal.

"Whatever, you traitor," he grumbled, flipping on his phone and calling Marshall. "Hey, Marshall, it's Vaughn. Syd bought it and she's on her way in."

"Oh, great! Well, I'm pretty much ready here with Weiss…and, you know, assuming everything goes okay, I mean – she is a spy, what if she figures it out?" he stuttered, Vaughn smiling through the phone.

"Marshall, as long as you just stutter and act like yourself, she’s not going to have a clue."

**…**

Sydney sighed, flipping over another card and finding it to be the Jack of Spades. _Nice;_ _there's the flush_.’ Years of practice, however, trained her to keep a stoic façade as she peered over her hand at the other agent. Weiss, usually playing the goofball, was surprisingly adept at keeping a straight face.

"All right, show me whatchu got," he ordered, trying to coax her into revealing her cards first.

"Oh, no, I dealt. That means that  _ you  _ get to show  _ me  _ the goods," she retorted.

"Bet that's not the first time you've said that," he wiggled his eyebrows, desperate to hide his pair of twos from the woman across from him.

"Weiss," she warned, flashing her eyes as she took a swig from her water bottle.

"What? I'm just sayin'; it just clicked in my mind at how you and Vaughn were able to play poker 'consistently' during a sixteen-hour flight," his fingers accentuated the quoted word as he saw a small blush tint the upper part of her cheeks.

"Oh man, c'mon! I was just messin' around; you're not tellin' me that…ewww," he grumbled, tossing his cards down onto the table as she laughed.

"Does this mean I should just collect the pot right now? Add it to my ever-growing stockpile of goodies?" she asked, her hands encompassing the medium-sized pile of fun-size chocolate bars and jellybeans.

"Fine, take it," Eric growled, Sydney grabbing a Snickers and tossing it over to him. "Yes! I deserve it after having to put up with the constant flirting, the sexual innuendos, the constant kissing," he growled, unwrapping his prize and stuffing it into his mouth.

"Well, I'm going to get ready; we'll land in about twenty minutes anyway. Think you can clean up on your own?"

"Yeah," he grinned up at her as she retreated to the back part of the cabin, a small sheet set up between them for privacy on her end.

"Okay, so what exactly am I looking for again? I tried to listen to Marshall, but he was a bit more 'stuttery' than usual," she called, sliding out of her work pants and pulling the dress from the dress-bag.

Surprisingly, it was a classy gown and not a tramp-like skimpy piece of cloth that showed far more than she was ever comfortable with showing. The gown was a deep dark green, the material tight from her torso to her stomach complete with a string in the back to connect the two straps underneath her shoulder blades before meeting in a dipping 'V' at the small of her back. The flowing fabric would probably touch the top of her feet, and though it was quite beautiful, she wasn't looking forward to running down yet another hallway in heels.

Laying it out on a chair, she proceeded to slide into the thigh-high-hose one at a time before pulling the dress over her head.

"You know, for an alias, this isn't such a bad dress. It might just find its way into the minimal collection of outfits I've failed to return from these missions," she smiled, hearing Weiss laugh behind the curtain.

"You mean you don't look like a woman that would be willing to sleep with me?" He knew full well what the dress looked like and had only imagined how perfect it looked on Sydney.

"Yes?" Her answer was more of a question and she laughed, tossing open the curtain and seeing him flipping through the mission folder. "Zip me?" She asked, smoothing the dress down in front with her palms.

He stood as she turned her back to him, holding her hair up to avoid it getting caught in the metal teeth.

"You look really pretty," he said as she walked back to the other half of the plane to do her makeup.

"So all I have to do is show up at the restaurant, find the target, flirt a little bit and grab his key-card, right?"

"Pretty much, it's kind of a snatch and grab sort of thing." He kept the smile from his face as she stuck her head out of the small bathroom in the middle of washing her face with a warm, wet cloth.

"That I can do," she said confidently. Finishing up with her eyes, a dark line the upper lids, though the upper curled up near the outside edge to make her lashes look longer than usual. Moving on to her cheeks, she applied a minimal touch of blush to merely make her color vary. If the dress was classy, her makeup was going to match.

"How should I do my hair?" she asked, mostly to herself, as she ran a small brush through the soft chestnut strands.

Weiss was prepared for this one as well, per Vaughn's request.

"Can you curl it?" he asked, trying to keep his voice nonchalant.

"You giving me fashion advice, Agent Weiss?" she asked with a curious grin, seeing him focus intently on putting the playing cards back into the package.

"Well - I mean…you look nice with curly hair. Maybe curl it and put it up in a bun or something. I don't know, it's your head," he grumbled, reciting perfectly what Vaughn had requested he ask.

"Well, if you think so." She plugged in the travel-sized curling iron and waited patiently for it to heat up.

Once the hair was finished and in the process of being pinned to the top of her head, a few unruly curls falling in wisps about her shoulders and along the side of her face, the captain announced that the plane was beginning its descent to the airport.

"Come and sit down," Eric called, seeing her step around the curtain looking completely stunning.

"Man, if only Vaughn could see you tonight; you'd totally be gettin' laid," he winked, Sydney rolling her eyes in mock annoyance.

"Well, hopefully this won’t take forever. It’ll be the first birthday I could actually spend with him if we end up in the same country tomorrow."

"Things have a way of working out," he as they landed in Paris, the light of the city shining around them.

"Okay, your only clue for this guy is gonna be a green fountain pen sitting on the edge of the table; table thirteen. It's located here," Weiss set the small map on her lap as they pulled to the curb of the restaurant and Sydney prepared to exit the vehicle.

"Gotcha. Thanks, Weiss," she smiled, returning the map and stepping out as the valet took her hand, the young man blatantly checking her out as he asked her in polite French if she was meeting someone or needed to wait for her company to arrive.

"Non, merci; mon ami est déjà arrivé." Smiling, he brushed a kiss across her knuckles and moved on to attend to the next car pulling up as Weiss' limo disappeared around the corner. 

(No, thank you, my friend has already arrived.)

Flipping on her earpiece, she heard Weiss ask for some tasty crepes, but didn’t answer. Agent-trained eyes scanned the dining area and she spotted table thirteen, the green fountain pen perched on the edge as advertised. She tried not to linger on the table for fear of giving herself away and turned to glanced around the restaurant, immediately knowing that something was amiss.

"This guy must be super paranoid," she spoke quietly to herself.

"Why do you say that?" Though filled with static, Sydney was able to discern Weiss' concerned voice through the din of the large restaurant.

"Because every table is empty. Coincidence?"

"I think not," Eric finished with a bad British accent and laugh. "Have you seen the target yet?"

"No, I didn't want to look too suspicious, you know? Can't very well walk in and notice him immediately," she muttered into her comm.

"Okay, going radio silent for a minute. Got a phone call," Eric mumbled, switching off his comm as he flipped open his phone, calling Vaughn.

"What the hell is she doing?" his friend's voice asked as Eric heard the music in the bistro over the phone.

"C'mon, man, she thinks it's a mission and is therefore in super-agent mode. Should we send in Dixon?"

"Might as well," Vaughn gave in before hanging up and pocketing his phone. While he was delighted to stare at Sydney's beautiful frame in the dress he'd chosen, he’d rather see the look of surprise on her face so they could have their night. Her current position provided him with a long look at her toned back due to the dipping material of the dress, as well as her lithe middle and shoulders.

Weiss grumbled before making himself comfortable in the back seat of the limo as the driver rolled the small window down.

"Is there a problem, Agent Weiss?"

"No, there isn't Agent Bristow. She's in complete spy mode so we're sending in Dixon."

Without another word Jack rolled the window up and tipped the chauffeur hat back down over his eyes with an annoyed sigh.

"You're on, Dixon, she's not biting. Keep in mind that once you move in, you'll probably blow the lid, so just show her where Vaughn is sitting. Lemme know how it goes."

"Sure thing," Dixon's voice cut out as he hung up, Weiss propping his legs up on the bench seat to his left.

"Pardon, madame, mais puis-je vous aider à localiser votre parti? Peut-être trouver une table si vous dînez seul?" 

(Pardon me ma'am, but can I help you locate your party? Perhaps find a table if you're dining alone?)

Sydney's head whipped around and her wide eyes focused on the familiarity of her friend’s face.

"What…what are you doing here?" she exclaimed in a harsh whisper, but he merely smiled and extended his arm to her, waiting patiently for her to comply.

"Ici, laissez-moi vous accompagner à votre table." His smile was reassuring so she plastered a fake smile on her lips and slipped her arm through his, briefly looking over to the table she had eventually supposed to infiltrate in order to find the key-card. 

(Here, let me escort you to your table.)

Instead of an unknown man looking expectantly up at her, Vaughn's shining eyes and deep smile made her look questioningly between the two.

"Happy birthday, mademoiselle," Dixon winked, leaving the two standing alone before the table.

"Wanna fill me in?" she asked, unable to erase the surprise from her face as her eyes shone with unrestrained curiosity.

"Well, originally I'd asked Kendall to give us the weekend off for your birthday, but when he denied my request for the fourth time I went around him to your father."

"My father?!" Her voice squeaked and her eyes followed him as he moved around behind her, just close enough for her to feel his presence. Pulling out the chair and guiding her into it, he pushed it in before claiming his own to her right.

"Yeah. Surprisingly he didn’t try and shoot me,  _ and  _ he agreed to help. We set up a dummy mission for Kendall and he okayed Weiss, you and me on point with Dixon and Jack as backup," he explained, seeing the stunned look beginning to dissipate. “He’ll be pissed we didn’t get the intel, but seeing as there’s really no intel for us to get, he’ll punish us with separate missions across the globe next week.”

"My dad? You and my dad orchestrated this whole thing?"

"Yeah."

"All of it?" she sat with her hands flopping in her lap as she searched for confirmation that her father had set up a weekend alone for his daughter and her lover – a man who hadn't yet earned Jack Bristow's blessing, if it were even possible.

"He was your limo driver I might add," Vaughn reached out and waited for her to slide her hand into his waiting palm. "Do you have any idea how beautiful you are tonight?"

With a blush she looked down, her free fingers toying with the frayed hem of the cloth napkin before looking up and taking in his attire for the first time that evening. The black material of his pants and jacket matched, the black going together so well, but the almost green-silver undershirt that stuck out around the collar – as well as his tie – was complimentary to the deep color of her dress.

"So you actually went and picked out two outfits for tonight?"

"Yeah, well, Weiss helped."

"That's a surprise," she laughed as a young waiter appeared with two large menus in hand.

The waiter approached their table, Sydney's stomach already growling at the aroma wafting from the kitchen.

"Your food will arrive momentarily. Would you like me to bring out your wine?" His polite French words swirled around as Sydney fixed Vaughn with yet another surprised stare.

"Yes, please – thank you very much."

"I can't believe you did all of this," she sighed, a happy smile gracing her lips as he leaned across the small, intimate table to take her fingers into his hand.

"Happy birthday, Syd," he replied, pulling away for a moment to scoot his chair around closer to her own before leaning in to place a gentle kiss against her mouth as the food was carried out along with a bottle of wine.

The meal was delicious, Sydney cleaning her plate as Vaughn watched her with shining green eyes.

"What's on your mind? You seem pretty far away," she asked quietly, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to his temple. His cheeks blushed a light pink as he looked over at her with a small smile before reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out the infamous present, complete with re-taped purple wrapping paper.

With a grin, she opened the end and slid out the velvet box, setting aside the paper, stopping with a pause before opening the box.

"What's wrong? You've been dying to know what's inside for a month," his mouth was set in that perfect little grin, and she couldn't help but reach out and trace the dimple on his chin before cracking open the box, the shining glint of jewelry making her close it quickly, her eyes whipping up to his.

"It's not what you think it is; c'mon, baby, open it," he urged, seeing the sudden panic in her mocha orbs as she flipped the lid once more.

The beautiful, white gold necklace was crisscrossed in the front with the top section housing three small diamonds.

"Oh my…Vaughn…this is," she stuttered, merely content to stare at the piece as he chuckled beside her, reaching out and taking it from her shaking hands.

Pulling it from the protective box of velvet and silk he stood and moved behind her, placing it around her neck before clasping it. Leaning down he peppered a few small kisses behind her ear and along her neck before slipping back into his chair.

With a sigh she leaned forward, cupping the back of his head and pulling him in for a sweet kiss. A discreet cough pulled them both apart as Vaughn looked up to face a smirking Dixon decked out in the restaurant's uniform.

"Your bill, sir, complimentary of the Central Intelligence Agency. Please sign here," his voice was merely a whisper, though to the untrained eye it merely looked like Vaughn was indeed signing off for his meal.

"Thank you, have a lovely evening," handing him the receipt as well as a hidden card underneath, he turned and walked away before Michael could question the lingering item.

"What's that?" Syd asked, finishing the last sip of wine and pressing her napkin to her lips as she took the card from his hands and flipped it over. "’To Syd and Mike, you owe me beer and hockey tickets. Love, Weiss’. There's an address here for a hotel," she grinned, meeting his eyes over the rectangle piece of plastic.

"Well, let's go see what our room looks like," Vaughn stood, smoothing out his jacket before helping her from her seat and making their way out of the restaurant.

A limo was waiting for them both, and they saw Jack's usual steely face in the front.

"Damn, I guess this means that I can't make out with you on the way, doesn't it," he grumbled into her ear, his hand at the small of her back and guiding her into the large seat as the small window rolled down between the two sections.

"Yes, it does Agent Vaughn." Jack stated frankly, though a small hint of a smile graced his mouth when he looked at how happy Sydney appeared to be.

For the first few moments of the ride, Vaughn stuck to his side of the limo even though his hands ached to touch the beautiful woman beside him. It wasn't until her hand gently pushed on his bouncing knee that he stopped fidgeting and turned toward her.

"Thank you for everything tonight, Vaughn. The restaurant, the dinner, the necklace – all of it. Definitely a birthday I won't forget," she cupped his cheek, leaning in and setting a kiss to his cheek before tucking her hand between his as the limo slowed to a stop in front of the gigantic hotel. Jack turned, looking through the small window as the two younger agents focused on the senior officer before them.

"You're checking in under the names Sydney and Michael Macheau, visiting from northern France. You're here for two nights and you fly back the day after tomorrow."

"Dad – thank you so much. You don't know how much this means to me, truly," she smiled, moving over to the window, kissing her fingertip and pressing it into his cheek before exiting the vehicle and grabbing onto Vaughn's arm.

The hotel was massive and ornate, large stairways and hanging chandeliers making the couple gape at the elegant décor until they made it to the front desk. A smiling young woman greeted them in the beautiful language, and as soon as they signed off on the suite they made their way over to the elevator, catching it right as the doors opened and a few people streamed out.

With his hand at the small of her back, they entered the gold-paneled elevator and pushed the small round button that said 40.

"This has been an incredible night," Sydney sighed, looking over at him as he wedged his hands into his pockets, rocking onto the back of his heels, regarding her with his patented crooked grin.

"You deserve it. I mean…if I could do this every night…" he left off seeing the bright shine in her eyes and the dimples raging on her cheeks. "C'mere," he muttered, his hands moving from his pockets to her waist as he pulled her gently against him.

"Happy birthday, Sydney," he whispered before kissing her, his lips merely caressing hers as she sighed, her mouth opening slightly under his soft teasing. The kiss progressed slowly, their first few touches something soft until a burning excitement seemed to pour through her veins.

Her hands that were once stationary on his shoulders moved north until her fingers dove into his hair, simultaneously pushing his mouth hard against her own. His tongue sought entrance and she quickly acquiesced, her breath intermingling with his between their suctioning lips.

He pulled away with a smack, a small strand of saliva connecting their lips until his head moved along her jaw, stopping to bite at her earlobe as she clung to his back. His mouth suctioned over her racing pulse point as he leaned forward, forcing her to almost go limp in his embrace as she bent backward against his strong arms.

All too soon the elevator came to a stop with a ding, Vaughn reluctantly pulling away from her now red neck as the doors opened to reveal yet another lobby - though much smaller than that on the main floor - and an anxious bell-boy waiting with a large suitcase.

"Monsieur Vaughn?" he asked, a small squeak in his voice.

"Oui," Michael stated with a small frown, eyes scanning the lobby quickly before looking back down at the boy.

"Monsieur Jack tells me to…ummm…help you to get to…uh," he muttered, trying desperately to speak in the foreign English tongue.

"C'est tout exact, J'ai grandi en France. Dites-maintenant moi, Jack vous a envoyé?" 

(It's all right, we speak French. Now tell me, Jack sent you?)

"Oui, monsieur! Il m'a demandé de vous montrer à votre pièce et de vous donner votre sac, puisque vous étiez non préparé. C'est tout qu'il me dirait monsieur, Je jure!," 

(He asked me to show you to your room and give you your bag, since you were unprepared. That is all he would tell me sir, I swear!)

Vaughn gave him a genuine smile, Sydney doing the same as they stepped fully out of the elevator and followed the talkative young man down the hallway toward their room.

"Vous semblez terriblement jeune travailler ici," Sydney stated as he took the card from her hand and slid it into its respective slot, the door beeping three times as the small LED flashed from red to green. 

(You seem awfully young to be working here.)

"Mon père et mère étaient de bons amis avec votre famille, Mlle. Bristow. Quand Jack a demandé notre aide en vous obtenant cette pièce, mon père a parlé à plusieurs personnes pour le faire se produire. Appréciez votre sejour ! Si vous avez besoin de n'importe quoi, le nombre de mon père est sur le bureau." With a small curt bow he scampered from the room, leaving the couple standing in the doorway. 

(My father and mother were good friends with your family, Miss Bristow. When Jack asked for our help in getting you this room, my father talked to several people to make it happen. Enjoy your stay! If you need anything, my father's number is on the desk.)

"Wow, look at this room!" Sydney exclaimed as she waltzed in, Vaughn closing the door behind them.

The giant suite was probably the most luxurious hotel room they'd ever stayed in, and they both had a lot to compare. Large double doors opened to a balcony overlooking the sprawled city, and a soft breeze ruffled the floor-length curtains showing that the doors were open. The 'living area' was to the left of the entrance, and a small kitchen sat tucked away to the far left of the room.

"Hotel room? This is more like an apartment," Vaughn muttered, appreciatively eyeing the large television sitting across from a gold and silver embroidered couch and chair. The entertainment system was unlike anything he'd ever seen, let alone dreamed about.

"You want some music? Maybe some sexy jazz?" he asked with a crooked grin, meandering over to the stereo system and opening the protective glass door before fiddling with some buttons, a decent station playing various jazzy melodies, the strands of the soft saxophone swirling around the once quiet room.

"Woah!" Sydney's voice called, Vaughn immediately rushing off through yet another set of double doors and nearly crashing into her back as they both scanned the bedroom with trained eyes. "I wanna move in," she muttered with a breathless laugh before moving to the bed and feeling the soft quilt with her hand.

The four-post bed rose up in the center of the room, large white sheets spilling over the edges as a mahogany duster brushed along the floor. Several deep red, gold, and silver pillows adorned the top of the bed, an amber-colored afghan resting on the end mostly for show and completing the ensemble.

All of the wood was a deep cherry color, complimenting the furniture of the living room and kitchen perfectly. The dresser had a large bouquet of roses accentuated with a few sprigs of white baby's breath strewn through the floral arrangement - a white card next to the crystal vase stood out and Vaughn picked it up, reading the scrawled handwriting.

"Syd, this card's for you," he smiled, seeing her turn her attention away from the bed and over to where he was standing. She took it from his hands with a curious smile before opening it to find that it was from her father.

'Happy Birthday, sweetheart.'

The message wasn't much by way of uproarious speech or wistful poetry, but to her it meant so much more than either of those could express. To her, it signified - perhaps hinted - that she may one day have a normal life. Something void of the constant terror and the many hours of jetlag she suffered after jumping from country to country in search of the bad guys.

"You okay?" Michael asked quietly, seeing the tears well up in her eyes as she flashed him a bright smile, wiping at her nose quickly before blinking back the tears.

"Yeah, it's…it's from my dad. He just wanted to say happy birthday, that's all," she sighed, slipping the card back into its protective envelope.

"Thank you so much for this, Vaughn, I really needed this break," she said quietly, stepping into his arms and pressing a kiss to the side of his neck as they began to sway with the gentle music. 

Lifting her arms around his shoulders, the fingers of her right hand played with the hair at the nape of his neck. Michael's arms looped around her waist and pulled their bodies flush, folding his fingers together above the curve of her backside. 

They moved in slow stepping circles until the song changed, and Vaughn tucked his nose into her throat to scatter soft kisses between her shoulder and ear. One hand pressed flat against her lower back as the other moved up and began lowering the zipper.

"You tryin' to start somethin' Mr. Vaughn?" she asked coyly, pulling away from his roving lips to unbutton and push his jacket off of his shoulders.

"Always," he grinned, covering her mouth once more before sliding his tongue out to duel with hers.

They took their time memorizing the feel of each other - the taste - and the ever-growing sensuality that they shared. His lips were commanding yet gentle, and this was the one place she allowed herself to be completely vulnerable and devoid of the protective walls she'd constructed.

His jacket was left in a pile on the floor, as was his tie and silvery green shirt. Her hands roamed his chest, fingers going over each line and rippling muscle until they met the waistband of his trousers.

He was by no means standing still under her inspection - quite the contrary. He unzipped the back of her dress completely before sliding up her ribcage to her shoulders and pulling the straps off until they flopped against the crooks of her elbows.

Once the majority of their clothing was in scattered piles on the floor, they coordinated their steps and made their way over to the beautiful bed.

"Wait a sec, I need to pull down the blankets," he mumbled against her mouth and moved away from her, his eyes having a tough time turning away from the sight of her clad in only a matching set of underwear, the thigh-high hose pulled off right after the dress.

She watched the muscles of his back stretch as he shoved the decorative pillows off the other side and grabbed the blankets, flipping them down to the other end of the bed. Throwing off one pillow and leaving one behind for their heads, he turned back to her with a wide smile.

"You're such a gentleman," she grinned, his hands gripping her waist before sliding up to snap off her bra and push it off of her body as he led her to the bed.

"Always for you," he whispered while nuzzling his nose into her throat, a breathy moan slipping from her lips as her body pressed flush against his. She scattered small pecks over his shoulder while he turned, dipping her back until she lay on the soft silky sheets.

He left her with her legs hanging off the edge as his hands and mouth traveled lower after one brief kiss. His tongue swirled each of the twin peaks, her nipples jutting outward. She hummed behind closed lips as her eyes followed suit, her fingers delving into his hair as he pulled back, his mouth disconnecting with a pop before he blew a cold blast of air over each breast, leaving them straining while moving lower to her stomach.

He worshiped each abdominal muscle, his mouth leaving several pinkish-red marks against her skin before dipping his tongue into her navel and pulling back. Removing her panties with gentle fingers, his hands skimmed down her thighs as his lips followed. Skimming his fingers with a ghost of a touch over her mound, her hips jumped in anticipation as a mewl left her pouted lips. Standing, he took her in as he kicked the pants to the floor and stepped up to the edge of the bed.

He lifted her up and set her back down with her head resting on the fluffy pillow, his eyes scanning her nakedness with a fiery emerald stare. Vaughn pulled his boxers off, letting them drop to the floor as his hardness jumped up, twitching every few seconds as he climbed in next to her on the bed.

"You are so beautiful, have I told you that?" he asked, leaning in for a sweet kiss as his hand rubbed her arm lightly.

"A couple of times perhaps," she stated with a grin, facing him on her side as they each propped their heads up with a hand.

"I don't think we've ever actually gotten this far into it without jumping one another," he chuckled, pulling her closer until no viable space was left between their heated bodies.

"Well, if you think about it - it's not like we ever get more than ten minutes to enjoy anything before we're called in." Leaning forward once more, she pressed a small kiss to his chin, briefly letting her tongue trace the crease before pulling back with a wide smile.

"Well, we don't have to worry about that this weekend," he grinned, one hand resting on her hip as the other reached out and pulled her head into the crook of his neck, her mouth trailing wet kisses against the column of his throat.

The hand on her hip moved down to pick up her leg and settle it over his waist, causing the tip of his cock to touch the heated warmth of her core. Pressing a kiss to her neck and shoulder, her mouth sucking lightly on his earlobe and racing pulse point, back and forth between his throat and collarbone, he inched up with his hips until the head was completely buried in her wet heat.

Still facing each other on their sides, he groaned into her hair, several curled, fly-away strands clinging to his sweaty cheek, pushing up slowly with his hips until he was inside her body completely. A rush of air was pushed from her lungs at the intensity of his entrance, and they stilled until she adjusted to his girth.

"You okay?"

"Yeah…just…it just feels different," she mumbled, her words muffled against his skin.

"Different in a good way?"

"Oh, god yes," she groaned as he pulled back equally as slowly before the tip popped out and rubbed against her hardened clit. Her moan made him smile, and he pulled back with his hips in an effort to angle himself back to her opening, but unable to do so with the way their bodies were lying.

Before he could react, she reached down and gripped him with her hand, fingers skimming over the tip before positioning it back against her moist lips, her hand retreating to lay flat against his lower stomach.

Pushing in completely, he pulled back out slowly, repeating the process several times until her hips began to rock against him, her body aching for more. He increased his speed marginally, still making sure she'd have to assist him back into her body.

Finally, he pulled out completely with words of assurance at the whimper she let out into his shoulder and pushed away from her despite the firm grip of her clinging arms. Her questioning eyes met his and he leaned in to a wet kiss, moving her body until she was flat on her back, her legs opening quickly to let him back into the warmth she offered.

Pushing himself into her quickly, the breath left her lungs as his pace started to become more frantic and hurried, his body smothering hers as he propped himself up at the elbows, his forearms stretching out with his hands cupping the back of her head and holding her against him.

This forced his hips to take over with every movement, the base of his cock pressing into her clit on each down stroke. Her legs clung to his waist as her hands gripped his back, fingernails leaving small crescent-shaped indents over his shoulder blades.

Their bodies were covered in a fine sheen of sweat, their pressing and pushing sending them both over the edge. Sydney cried out his first and last name into his neck as he buried his face into her shoulder, his hoarse groan and ensuing pants mirroring each spasm of her clenching walls around his member.

They lay motionless, lips giving light caresses as they came down from their high, the room ceasing its spinning as he tried to pull away from her before he crushed her with his weight.

"No, not yet," she begged, her voice low and raspy as she squeezed him tighter to avoid him leaving.

"I don't wanna crush you, at least lemme grab the blankets so we don't freeze," he laughed lightly, trying to extract himself from her arms, feeling her refusal in the way her body still clung to his. With a sweet sigh and a kiss to her cheek, he lifted her body as he sat up, keeping himself lodged inside her core as well as their upper bodies connected.

Finally managing to sit up with her legs around his waist, her rear end perched on his straining thighs as he leaned back a bit with his arm and reaching for the blankets - thankful that one didn't make it all the way to the floor.

Dragging it over their cooling bodies, he leaned onto his side, pulling her with him as he tucked the blanket around their waists, his arms wrapping around her as she sighed into his throat.

"I like it," she whispered, Vaughn feeling her smile against his skin.

"Like what?"

"I like not being rough." With a laugh and a kiss, they snuggled deeper into the bed as he agreed, but quickly added:

"Yeah, but rough is fun too."

**…**


	6. Awry

**Chapter 6: Awry**

Sydney slammed the door to the safe house as the chilly night air blew errant bits of snow into the shoddy living room. Vaughn fought down his rising anger from the other side of the door and calmly opened it back up to enter.

The only sign that she'd even been here was the string of tactical gear leading to the small bathroom of the one-bedroom house. Following the wet spots where she'd walked, he lifted up the vest, jacket, and holster, looking up when the door to the bathroom opened. Rather than seeing her face he was hit with two gigantic boots, one slamming into his thigh as the other nailed his injured arm.

He growled, pushing down the anger once more as the door slammed closed, the water kicking on a moment later as she poured herself a bath.

He shivered, thinking that a bath was a good idea. Unfortunately, he knew he wasn't going to get a chance any time soon. Removing his own gear, he walked into the kitchen after kicking his boots toward the door. Rummaging through the cabinets he found a tin of coffee, two small startled mice, and a box of tea with the end chewed open.

Grabbing both the tin and the box, he began his search for a pot to boil water. After successfully making the worst cup of coffee ever, he poured it out with a grimace and grabbed two unscathed tea bags, setting the kettle over the burner.

Hearing the water drain, he grabbed her large backpack off of the couch and made his way to the closed-off bathroom. Hesitating before knocking, he decided that she'd be more upset if she had to ask him for clothes. Knowing the mood she was in, she would probably parade around naked before asking for help.

_ 'Not that that's a bad thing,' _ his mind swayed, Michael grinning as he tapped on the door. "Syd?"

"Go to hell."

"Sydney, I put your clothes by the door," he growled at her gruffly, dropping the bag to the floor and heading back to the kitchen.

The whistle blew and he poured two hot cups over the bags of tea, holding one in each hand as his fingers began to thaw out. He didn't look when the door opened, content to just sit and clutch the two steaming mugs as she snatched up her backpack and pulled it into the steaming bathroom.

He shook his head, bouncing up and down on the couch lightly as he tried to determine how comfy it would be to sleep on for the night.

"That's your bed," she growled between the bedroom and the bathroom, a rosy glow to her cheeks from the heat of the bath she'd taken.

"Yep," he spoke to himself, sipping the scalding beverage, wincing at the temperature but deeming it better than the coffee before taking another sip.

He briefly glanced up when she walked into the room, a small ball of guilt in his stomach.

"I made you some tea."

Silence.

"It'll warm you up."

Silence.

"Did you save me any hot water?"

More silence. She pulled out the laptop from its protective case and opened it up, the giant hoodie familiar in Vaughn's eyes as he realized it was his. Seeing a pair of her hip-hugging panties peeking out from the band of his rolled-up sweatpants, he laughed 

"You're mad at me, but you'll still wear my clothes?" he joked. Knowing that if looks really could kill, he'd be six feet under. "Sydney, I'm sorry."

"No, you're not," she growled, beginning to type up her report.

"You know what? I'm not. It saved your life." His anger was beginning to bubble to the surface, and he instantly knew he'd said the wrong thing.

"You erased it…all of it. Why?"

"I had to," he reached out to touch her, pulling back when the glare returned.

Sydney went back to ignoring him and he determined that it was a lost cause. Standing and scooting the cooling tea toward her, he made his way to the bathroom.

Closing the door, he quickly noticed the open and used First Aid kit sitting on the counter. He'd known she'd been hurt, but she hadn’t mentioned where. "Typical Bristow," he grumbled, pulling the black sweater over his head, the equally dark shirt coming along. The shirt stuck to his wound, the laceration probably deep enough to require stitches, but there was no way he was telling that to the angry woman in the living room.

He decided to clean it out during his shower, the black and gray cargo pants hitting the floor next to hers, his boxers and socks landing in the same pile. Naked, he lifted the clothes up and opened the bathroom door, walking across the hall into the bedroom and dumping them into the corner.

"The gear is in the room," he stated, walking back into the bathroom with a grin, knowing that her eyes had followed him on his nude trek down the hall.

Jumping back into the bathroom, he flipped on the hot water knob, his hand waiting patiently for the warm water to kick on. Unfortunately, that moment never came, and he settled for a luke-warm, colder than anything, shower.

Shivering more when he got out than when he went in, he grabbed the one towel, finding it soaked after Sydney's hot-water-stealing stint a few minutes earlier. Toweling off with the cold terrycloth, he looked around for his clothes and remembered that they were still in his pack. Which, if he remembered correctly, should be in the living room.

He cursed quietly, wrapping the towel around his waist and walking into the living room.

"Where's my bag?" he asked, looking around the room and not spotting the item anywhere.

"Probably with the Jeep."

"You didn't grab it?" he asked, incredulously.

"Because I grabbed my own; why didn’t you grab it?" she asked her voice monotone, eyes not bothering to look up from the screen.

"Because you said, _ 'I'm gonna get the stuff from the Jeep' _ , that's why!" he shouted, his hand still clutching at the towel, his body shaking as the beads of water dried on his cool skin.

"No, I said I was gonna grab  _ my  _ stuff."

"Sydney, goddammit!" he shouted, slamming his hand into the wall, cursing again when the pain reverberated, letting him know that it was his injured arm. The blood had been thinned by the dripping water, now looking like it was running in rivulets down his arm and dripping off the ends of his fingers. "Everything I had  _ with  _ me was in that bag!"

He tightly closed his eyes until he saw stars as he willed his temper lower trying not to strangle the woman he loved before stalking back into the bedroom. Unwrapping the towel and setting it against his arm, he found one of her hair-ties on the top of her pile of clothes. Grabbing it and stretching it almost past its limit, he secured the towel around his arm, looking at the pile of clothes in the corner.

Picking up his sweater, shirt, and pants, he could feel how damp they were. Running six miles from shouting guards as well a walking another ten to reach the safe house – all while blinding and sticky snow blew into their faces – ensured that the clothing wouldn't be wearable until they dried.

He shivered again, lifting her stuff and setting it on the dresser instead of dumping it onto the floor. She was notoriously stubborn, he knew that, but right now her anger was taking control of her emotions.

And he was still naked and wet.

Hauling the large downy quilt off of the bed, he wrapped himself up and gathered all of their wet clothes, carrying them into the living room and trying desperately not to trip over the long hanging blanket around his legs.

She ignored him. Though her anger was still there, she did feel bad that she'd deliberately left his bag behind. Still, her anger was enough and she was determined to hold onto it for as long as possible.

He started a fire, rigging up the pokers and a few skinny sticks into a clothesline of sorts, draping everything in front of the heat before sitting down in front of the fire himself.

"I'm sorry I hit the kill switch, Syd," he started.

"No, you're not," she replied frostily.

"I am  **now** since it made you leave my clothes sixteen miles away in an unoccupied Jeep," he retorted, tossing her a wry grin and seeing the glare she threw over the tilted screen of the laptop. Hurt and anger shone equally in her eyes, and he turned back toward the flames to stick out his hands for warmth.

"It wasn't the easiest thing for me to do, Sydney."

"It seemed like it was," she grumbled.

"She killed my father. We had all the answers at our fingertips; every contact she had during her time with the K.G.B., all of her reports," he whispered, his eyes lost in the dancing swirl of the fire.

She stopped typing to look over at his back as he sat in front of the heat wrapped in that ridiculous blanket. Though she was still furious at him, the icy wall she'd set up was beginning to melt away.

"The intelligence would have told us exactly where she was. We could've gotten her," she stated, closing the computer and setting it on the table beside her empty teacup.

"I know," his voice was still quiet.

"Then isn't that worth the risk? It's worth  _ everything _ , Vaughn!" Her voice was watery and frustrated, tears slipping down her cheeks as she wiped angrily at them before folding her hands in her warm lap.

He shook his head, his mind slipping back into his memories. "I have this…this memory of my father," he paused, letting the words reach her ears. "He took me to my first hockey game, and I was so nervous I almost wet my pants. I was…eight years old and had been practicing all year for this one game. He'd shown me everything he knew, and I was so excited to finally play."

"First face-off, this giant kid slammed into me and I landed flat on my ass. After remembering who and where I was, I got up and looked over at my dad, and he was…beaming. He was actually happy that I'd gotten knocked down, and I didn’t understand; I didn't know what would make him enjoy watching me fail."

He stopped for a moment, his eyes still focused intently on the flames, watching them sway around each other intricately before dying out near the top of the fireplace.

"Toward the end of the game, as he coached me from the side, I got a hold of the puck and decided I was gonna go for it. I could hear him yelling for me to stop, but I didn't. I shot it straight into the goal, Syd; I almost caught the net on fire, and as everyone on the team cheered for me, I got a good look at my father's face, and…he was furious."

"Why?" she squeaked from the couch. His voice had been soothing, tamping out her anger and replacing it with guilt. Guilt over something she hadn't done, but it was still there.

"When I'd broken away with the puck, I'd crossed the white line that marked the edge of the playing area. We played on this gigantic lake, but only a part of it got thick enough to actually hold weight without breaking. That's where we set up the hockey lines and nets."

"When I'd crossed the line, I'd gone into a spot where the ice began to crack. I didn't see it of course, but my dad did. After the goal, he flew across the ice and grabbed my arm, almost throwing me into the truck before driving away. Still, I didn't know I'd done anything wrong. He spent the entire twenty-minute drive yelling at me for not listening; for not following his rules."

Michael paused again, his head bowing down as he pulled at a loose thread on the worn comforter.

"He grounded me from playing hockey until he got back from his business trip. I was so mad at him that when we got home, I jumped out of the truck and told him, _ 'I hope you don't come back' _ . Later that night, when he came up to tuck me in, he told me why he'd yelled – why I was in trouble."

"He said it wasn't that he was angry, he was just scared. He was proud of me for getting my first goal, but I'd broken the rules to get it, and that was wrong. If I'd fallen through the ice, all my hockey gear would have pulled me down to where his arms couldn't reach me. That's why he'd yelled at me to let the puck go and not take the shot."

"But, being an excited eight-year-old boy, I ignored him and told him to go away. He left that night for his trip and never came home."

Tears fell freely from her eyes as she understood now that it wasn't just herself that had been robbed of righting the wrong that was her mother by getting Irina Derevko back into custody. Vaughn had the same sense of loss going through his veins.

"Sydney, you didn't have anything to do with that woman's betrayal, you know that. And…and I don't blame you for what she did to my family – what she did to me. The lesson I learned from my father that day on the ice isn't one I'm just going to forget. Yes, we had the goal in sight, and yes, we probably  _ could  _ have gotten away with it, but I will never  **once** put a piece of information before your life.  **_Ever_ ** ," he affirmed, looking over at her splotchy face and watery eyes.

"It wasn't worth it, Sydney; she isn't worth it. Not to me."

Silence filled the room for quite some time, with the only sound the comforting crackle of the fire. Sydney hadn't said anything after Vaughn's compelling story, but her feelings of guilt and remorse wouldn't dissipate. Not just for the things that her mother had done, but for the fact that she'd been so awful to Michael in the last hour or so.

The fact that he loved her so much that he'd forego catching the woman who killed his father showed more than his level of integrity. The fact that she'd been selfish enough to leave his only bag of clothes back at their Jeep showed a little something about hers, and she stood quietly before making her way into the bedroom. Changing out of Vaughn's clothes, she put on her own pajamas and slipped on an extra long-sleeved sweatshirt to fight off the bite of the chilly air.

He watched her break and quickly leave, her back disappearing into the bedroom, so he let her go and turned and checked on the dryness of the clothes beside him. Despite the blanket and the fire, he was freezing. The floor wasn't adequate at all, and his backside and legs were nearly numb from absorbing the coolness stored in the wooden planks. Looking down, he realized that he wasn't sitting on the wool carpet.

"Here," she spoke, catching his attention. Looking up to her outstretched hands, his neatly folded pajama pants and hoodie sat waiting in her arms. He tossed her a lopsided grin, stoof, and took the clothes – something resembling an awkward peace offering between them. Standing and dropping the blanket to the floor, he nearly jumped into them, warm from Sydney's body.

"Thanks," he murmured, seeing her begin to turn away, her eyes looking down at the laptop. He caught her arm, pulling her back. "It can wait," he almost ordered, his arms wrapping around her back and shoulders, her body instantly relaxing and molding against his.

"I'm so sorry, Vaughn, I was such a jerk," she mumbled into his shoulder, her hands rubbing at his back as she felt the cool skin of his neck against her cheek. "C'mon, let's sit by the fire," she pulled away and reached down to lift up the blanket.

"As long as we get to sit on the rug this time," he grumbled, tugging it over and flopping down, Sydney wrapping the blanket around him and perching between his legs.

Vaughn wrapped his arms and pulled the blanket around them both. He set his lips against her cheek, resting his chin on her shoulder. She tilted her head down, each mind muddled with their own thoughts as they watched the fire burn.

"How tired are you," he asked with a mumble, yawning into her ear before nipping gently at the lobe.

She chuckled, closing her eyes as his hands encompassed hers, pulling him tighter around her. "Not that tired,” she lied, stifling a matching yawn as butterflies danced in her stomach.

He grinned, his lips trailing down from her ear to her throat, an occasional bite or suck taking place here and there. She sighed, his hands leaving hers to grip her waist, pulling her backside into his groin. Relaxing his hold, his cold hands pushed up the hem of her two shirts before settling over her stomach and ribs. She squeaked, trying to get away from his ice-like fingers, but they held strong.

"Your hands are freezing," she grumbled, tilting her head to the side to grant him better access to the column of her neck. He dove in, his tongue laving any love bites he left behind as a series of small purple marks trailed down from her ear to her collarbone.

"You're not going to make me wear a turtleneck for a week, are you?" she asked with a grin, his mouth popping away from her shoulder as he ignored her question, pushing his lips against hers. His tongue invaded quickly, dueling with it as they sighed, each breathing in the others exhale.

They devoured each other’s lips, tongues dueling for dominance as his hands inched their way up her shirt until his palms cupped her breasts, the peaks fitting perfectly in his palms. She arched her back against his chest, their mouths coming apart as she pressed kisses to the side of his jaw and neck.

He half lifted her up, half pushed her away before tilting her down until she was sprawled out on the fuzzy wool rug before him. Stretching out beside her, he dragged the blanket up over their warming bodies, his mouth going back to the hollow of her throat. He dipped his tongue into the small depression, her groan making his erection throb against the cotton of his sweatpants, the friction only adding to his excitement.

Her fingers tugged at his hair, pulling his head back up to hers where she met him with a wet kiss, her tongue tracing his as she pressed her hips up against his waist. Given their situation, she chuckled against his lips, causing him to pull back with a half-grin, propping his torso up with one arm as the other traced a line from her shoulder to a nipple, rubbing the bud with the pad of a finger through the two layers of shirts she had on.

"What's so funny?"

"I was just thinkin'," she smiled, her hands sneaking up underneath the large sweatshirt to trace his twitching abs. "It’s kinda funny that on a mission we end up having sex on a rug in front of the fire. Seems too romantic for the situation," she grinned, seeing him shake his head and swoop in for another kiss, silencing the conversation.

Sitting up and moving 

Vaughn perched himself above her, locking his elbows into place as his hands tangled in her splayed hair. Aligning himself with her silken entrance, he pushed himself to the hilt, dropping his head down to place a smacking kiss against her gasping mouth before pulling back to look down at her.

Removing completely from her body, the crown of his erection bouncing up against her clit, he positioned himself once more and slid home. His thrusts went from slow to fast, never quite giving her a chance to complete an orgasm, despite the fact that she begged him over and over to let her come.

He couldn't keep his eyes closed, even when she tried to throw him off with an occasional squeeze from her inner muscles. Watching her face contort in pleasure; hearing the pants and feeling her breath against his chest; that coupled with the fact that in his perched, less intimate, position he got an ample view of her body during their coupling.

Her breasts bounced with each thrust, and her legs were now bare from where the blanket had fallen down from their waists, covering only Vaughn's calves and feet. The occasional pop from the fire increased the sizzling heat between them as his eyes took in every inch of alabaster skin beneath him. He felt the churning low in his stomach, and from the squeaking and mewling sounds coming from Sydney's throat, she'd been close for some time. Dipping down, he licked across her upper lip where a drop of sweat was beading, the saline taste invigorating on his tongue. She met him, her once stationary hands against his stomach and chest now yanked him down to fully cover her body, one hand resting on his back between his shoulder blades as the other cupped the back of his neck, pulling at the hairs.

He groaned, the sound being swallowed between their panting mouths, willing his hips to move faster and faster until he'd reached his limit. His hot semen exploding against her walls, her own body crashing around his as he breathed in her cry, his arms holding her tight against his chest. Their mouths never parted, though their kisses became mere brushing of lips, the occasional tongue darting out as the sweat from their bodies cooled and they shivered simultaneously. Pulling out and away from her, she grumbled at the loss of contact, hearing him laugh before finally opening her eyes.

"Where you goin'?" her sultry voice asked, the purple haze in her eyes making his stomach drop with desire despite their recent climaxes.

He didn't answer, merely reached back and found the quilt, pulling it over his back before wrapping his arms underneath her and dragging her up against his chest. After swaddling them both, he stood on shaking legs and carried her to the bedroom, depositing his bundle onto the bed, diving in after her.

"Michael…I'm sorry for the way I acted. I was being a selfish jerk," she whispered, feeling his arms mold her body into his, her head coming to rest on his shoulder with a sigh.

"Hey, don't worry about it. I'll just have to get you back,"

"Oh really?" she asked with a lift of her head, intrigued.

"Yep. I foresee bondage, Sydney.  _ Lots of bondage _ ,"

**…**


	7. Party of Three

**Chapter 7: Party Of Three**

Vaughn cinched her hands to the bedpost. He’d taken special care in making sure that the rough metal of the handcuffs was covered with the soft cloth so they wouldn't hurt her wrists. When he'd snagged them from work that afternoon, he was already hard just thinking about using them on her later that evening. Double-checking the blindfold to assure himself that she couldn't see a thing, he picked up a large ostrich feather and stood at the end of the bed to watch her, momentarily powerless.

"I know you're still here." Despite her temporary blindness, she could always sense when he was around her.

"How?"

"Vaughn-dar," she answered matter-of-factly before stretching her long legs out in front of her, exploiting the fact that he'd stolen the red lingerie from C.I.A. storage. She'd get back at him sometime soon for making her prance around the bedroom in almost the same humiliating fashion as the fat, shrimp-eating man aboard the plane that housed server 47. Secretly, she enjoyed Michael's eyes on her, knowing that she was able to make him rock hard after merely strutting around the bedroom.

He'd quickly turned the tables, though, ordering her to lie down on the bed and set her wrists up against the posts.

"You're not going to leave me hanging like you did last time, are you?"

"Nah. Once was enough for  _ that _ ," he laughed.

Lifting the feather, he moved up and over her legs. Bringing the fluffy tip to her stomach, he swirled it around her belly button as she arched her back, letting out a string of half-giggles, half-moans.

"No…no, Vaughn, I'm ticklish!" she begged, trying in vain to get away from the item in his hands. She didn't need to ask to know what it was.

"Let's play a game." His voice was nearly a whisper, but he kept the deep gravely edge that he knew drove her crazy.

She shook her head in defiance, Michael dragging the feather down the right side of her ribcage, smiling as she squirmed. His jeans were impossibly tight, his erection begging to be set free from the constricting denim.

"I said, let's play a game. We're going to test your senses. Phase one is feeling." This time, the order was heeded and he backed off with the tickling. "You have to tell me what I'm using on you," his voice slid back down to a sensual whisper.

"Umm…a feather?"

"There ya go," he praised, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to her stomach, lingering long enough for his tongue to dart into the button before pulling back to his straddling position over her knees.

He looked to the small end table he'd set next to the bed, his fingers pausing over the many objects he'd set out for his 'torture' session. Deciding on a large child’s paintbrush, the bristles fluffy yet sturdy, he touched it to the tip of her nose. Dragging it over her left cheek, he briefly let it brush over her lips before moving down the slope of her jaw. He pulled away and she knew she had to answer her lover before he would touch her again.

"I don't know," she whimpered.

"Hmm," he hummed as he set it to her hot skin once more, running it around her ear and down the side of her neck. Pulling away once more, she hazarded a guess.

"Umm…another feather?"

"That's not very inventive," he scolded.

"Well, you're not giving me any hints!" she growled in return, Vaughn merely laughing. She groaned when he set it to her stomach. "If this is the feel test, why can't I use my hands?"

"Because you're an Operations Officer for the United States Central Intelligence Agency."

"This was never in  _ my  _ training," she mumbled, Michael grinning though she couldn’t see.

"Here," he conceded, sticking the tip of the large brush into her hand, swirling it around her palm before pulling away.

"A…paintbrush?"

Rather than verbalizing her success, he leaned forward and suctioned his lips over the hollow between her collarbones. She groaned at the contact, her hands straining against the cuffs to touch him. Pulling away with a smack, she kicked her leg lightly in frustration, Vaughn chuckling once more before picking something else up from his workstation.

It was slippery in his hands, but he managed to keep a hold of it before dragging it in a slow circle around her belly button.

"Oh my god…ice! Ice!" she cried out, trying to twist her body away from his diligent fingers, but the constant pressure of him sitting on her lower legs made it difficult.

"Ice what?" he asked with a vicious grin.

"Ice cubes!"

"Now, now, English major. Does it feel like more than one? Singular, Sydney," he breathed her name, sticking the nearly gone cube into her belly button as she squirmed.

"Damn it, ice  _ cube _ !" she snarled through clenched teeth as Michael lapped up the melted ice from her navel, tracing the chilly circles with his tongue before pulling away. A drip fell from his chin to her thigh, but she noticed only vaguely in the back of her mind; most of her senses focused on his purposeful actions.

"Okay, I think you did pretty good with round one," he taunted her.

"Does that mean I get a cookie?" she asked in annoyance, growing both excited and frustrated by his games.

"No."

"Damn," she muttered, cracking a grin at his harsh statement. "Does that mean I get to take off the blindfold?"

"No."

She pouted, Vaughn smirking as he leaned over and grabbed the first small bowl.

"Now we move on to taste. One of my favorites," he grinned, leaning forward and licking her lower lip.

In return, she darted her tongue out and traced where he'd just wet her skin, murmuring in response.

"That was easy - tasted like Vaughn."

"Nice try, but we haven't even started yet."

Grabbing the paintbrush he dabbed it into the bowl, getting a copious amount of goo onto the end. Without wiping it on the edge he moved it to her lips as the substance drizzled over her stomach and chest, his eyes watching the drops as they stuck where they landed.

After feeling the goop drip onto her chin, she frowned behind the mask as Vaughn reassured her, saying, "it's not gonna kill you, open up."

Obeying, she tasted the sweet, sugary compound carefully, her tongue flickering out to clean off her lips.

"It's honey."

"Very good," he smiled, setting the items back down onto the stand.

"Wait, don't I get something for getting it right? A kiss? A hug? An orgasm?"

Without even answering, he leaned forward and began lapping at the trails of sticky sweetness around her stomach, deliberately ignoring her breasts as he moved up her body.

"C'mon, how long are we gonna do this?" she groaned, her nipples getting impossibly harder as he bypassed them to her chest.

The sudden ringing of a cell phone made them both groan as Michael grabbed it from the nightstand.

"Vaughn," he answered.

Weiss' voice broke through the earpiece, "Hey, you two busy?"

"What makes you think I'm with Sydney right now?" he complained, hating that his friend knew him so well.

Eric only laughed as he chose to ignore the death stares both Kendall and Jack were throwing his way. "Because you two are the biggest horn-balls I've ever known. Odds are you've got her tied to the bed and are in the middle of something incredibly kinky."

"Wow, you're good," Vaughn confirmed, impressed, as he heard Weiss' answering groan.

"Dude…I was just kidding! It doesn't sound like you're gettin' lucky tonight. Get in here; Jack and Kendal got us an operation. A chance to get a step ahead of Sloane for once," he muttered, hanging up before Vaughn could try and form an adequate excuse.

"Damn it," he growled, tossing the phone behind him on the bed before extracting the key to the handcuffs from his pocket. Unlocking them quickly, Sydney was startled as her hands were suddenly freed.

"What's goin' on?" With a flip of her wrist behind her head, the blindfold toppled down to her chest as her eyes adjusted to the dim light of the bedroom. She felt more than saw Vaughn slide off of her legs, pushing herself up onto her elbows. "Vaughn?"

"That was Weiss – we've got a mission."

"Ugh, of course we do. With the weekend off and a crap-load of sexual tension to get rid of, we get to go to work."

"Hey, look on the bright side," he started, grabbing a clean pair of dress pants as he willed his stiff cock to deflate before they met with Jack Bristow. "Maybe we'll get to visit a place with a nice cushy office and a couch where we can get busy."

**…**

"A  _ threesome _ ?!" Weiss, Sydney, and Vaughn shouted simultaneously, their shocked eyes looking up from their folders to Marshall's bright red face.

"Well…umm…the only access to the office is from this bedroom. This club is frequented by people that…ummm…like having more than two…people in the room. You just gotta pretend...I promise!" His common stutters usually made them all smile, but this time it wasn't cute.

"A  _ threesome _ ?" Repeating their earlier statement, Kendall took over.

"You three will infiltrate the club and gain access to this room here; it's a bedroom used by paying customers. Agent Vaughn will use the drill to make a hole in the ceiling into the office above, and then Weiss will insert the camera equipped with a remote modem. You need to get that thing within two feet of the computer for it to work."

"That's a two-person job, so why do all three of us need to go in?"

Marshall interceded, "Weiss will be moving the camera and modem around and Vaughn will be watching the handheld screen. You're gonna have to hack into their system using this laptop and a phone jack. Now…they've got some pretty crazy security measures on their server, so it'll probably take me about five minutes to break their firewall and hack their files. Everything will pretty much download to the laptop's hard drive, and when it's done, just remove the drive."

Kendal nodded to the techie, signaling for Marshall taking his seat quickly

"Now…they have security cameras in the room. Apparently, this guy really likes to watch his patrons – enjoy themselves, shall we say?" Sydney rolled her eyes as Vaughn and Weiss looked warily back and forth. "You'll need to make it convincing until Marshall gives you the word that he's jammed the monitors."

"Won't the guy know something’s up?" Weiss commented, trying to think of every viable excuse to get out of the mission.

"Not if the last thing he sees are you three enjoying yourselves. He'll leave his office and go to the security room to rectify said problem. Marshall has assured us that they'll have enough problems getting back online in three years, let alone the ten minutes the whole op will take. Any questions?" Kendall looked at his agents and saw that they had plenty of questions, just no desire to voice them. "Wheels up in half an hour, you'll be taking a private CIA jet to Mexico City."

They boarded the plane in silence, a desperate sort of awkwardness surrounding the three agents. Sydney and Vaughn took the double-seat against the wall of the fuselage, Weiss plopping into the single one beside them.

"I don't know about you, but I'm a little weirded out by this whole thing." Eric stretched his legs out as Sydney kicked off her shoes and folded her legs underneath her.

The flight was mostly silent, Sydney absorbing herself into the file as Vaughn pretended to read the book he'd brought along. Weiss occasionally snored from his reclined position as she stole a glance at her significant other. To her surprise, he'd closed the book and had it sitting on his leg, his piercing green eyes staring directly at her.

"What's that look for?"

"The fact that I've still got a hard-on from your little jaunt around the bedroom earlier only adds to the pile of sexual tension I've got stored in my brain." He effectively turned on the 'sex-voice' making Sydney shiver in response.

"Vaughn," she warned, but he continued anyway.

"Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to just crawl off of you to go to work-"

"Vaughn, stop."

"To un-cuff you from your cinched little spot on the bed? Blindfolded and everything. We didn't even get to finish my game."

His eyes never left hers – emerald burning into caramel as Sydney's gaze finally shifted over to Weiss. "He sleeps like the dead," Vaughn responded as he saw the familiar purple hue begin to saturate her irises.

"What else did you have planned?" she asked quietly, Vaughn delighting in the fact that she was more than willing to play this verbal game with him. It was a relatively short flight from L.A. to Mexico City – compared to the many flights from Taipei and back in the two days.

"Well…a bowl full of honey and another of hot fudge," he listed.

"I met honey, we became good friends," she grinned, a single dimple popping out as she scooted closer to where he was sitting.

Vaughn turned so his body was facing her, one leg bending at the knee and flattening against the back of the couch as the other dropped to the floor, leaving his position perfect for her to move in-between his legs.

She made no such move, content to prolong their lust to the bitter end.

"Hot fudge?"

"Yep. Microwaved to a touch above warm, but not too hot." His smile was pure testosterone, as was his gravelly voice.

She nodded, closing the file in front of her quietly before meeting his eyes with a hooded gaze. "What else?"

Running a finger from the cleft in his chin to his abdomen, she wiggled her eyebrows as Weiss let out a small snore.

"Other than covering you in chocolate and fucking you until neither one of us could see straight? God, Syd, how long has it been?" His mood changed slightly from completely horny to completely horny and whiny.

"I dunno, like…six days?"

"Feels like forever," he grumped but she just laughed, forcing him to take her hand and bring it to his lips. "You're not the one walkin' around the CIA offices with a hard-on."

"You're not the one who had to run home after almost every damn meeting because the looks you were getting made you so wet you had to change underwear." She deadpanned, seeing the surprised look on his face. "Yeah. You with your damn furrowed brow and deep green eyes," she scolded and scooted closer until she was sitting in the same fashion as him, tossing her outer leg over his thigh and her inner one around behind him.

Weiss cracked an eye open to sneak a peek, not wanting to ruin the moment between his friends by telling them he'd been awake the whole time. Selfishly, he kind of wanted to see how far they would take it with him 'sleeping' right next to their couch.

Vaughn's arms wrapped around her, settling against her lower back to pull her closer. "You are so beautiful," he commented, her bright smile shining over him as she leaned in, cupping his jaw before joining their lips in a sweet kiss.

Then another.

One more.

As their tongues snaked out to join the party, they quickly lost themselves in the taste of one other. Michael's hands skimmed down over her dress pants to cup and squeeze her backside, pushing her farther between his legs until she was almost on top of him.

Her mouth slanted over his in response and his tongue skimmed across the roof before pulling back, his teeth nipping at her pouted lower lip. She couldn't keep the low moan from reverberating through her chest. Their previous activities had turned them both on to the point of insanity while leaving them bereft of completion.

With one sizzling kiss, the lust seemed multiplied by a number close to infinity as it dropped like lead in their stomachs, burning a trail to their sexes.

Weiss – dazed as he was – had the wherewithal to keep his jaw from dropping as his two friends began making out. Not a hormonal teenager type of make-out; this was a foreplay session for two well-seasoned lovers. Right in  **front** of him. Well…technically it wasn't in  _ front  _ of him; he was supposedly asleep.

The tightening of his groin made him painfully aware that he was awake, and he shifted slightly away from them both.

Sydney and Vaughn froze mid-kiss as Weiss wiggled around to find a comfortable spot on the odd-shaped chair. Their eyes were the only things that moved, assessing the situation and assuming that their tangled arms and legs wouldn't allow for a quick disengage without making it painfully obvious as to what they were doing.

Vaughn's hands still cupped her ass as her own were splayed across his bare chest. When she'd managed to open his Oxford he had no clue, but she had.

"We should stop," she mumbled, the movements of her lips causing them to brush against his as he nodded, letting go of her backside aid in untangling their legs. She couldn't hold in a laugh as her hand accidentally brushed against his engorged cock through his tented trousers. "You should go take care of that," she grinned and saw his nod as he stood, pressing a kiss to her forehead before moving off with a stiff walk to the lavatory.

_ 'Maybe I could go take care of myself,' _ she groused internally as she flipped open the abandoned file, sending Eric a glare and jumping back into her work with a cloudy mind.

…

The club was hot, sweaty, and pulsing. Sydney was dressed in the smallest mini skirt she'd ever seen; the high plaid stockings going up under her knees, accentuated by the nearly five-inch stilettos adorning her feet. The tight, see-through shirt showed off her rippled abdomen, ending right below the black lace bra.

Vaughn and Weiss had dressed alike, though Eric was sporting a loose blue shirt over his baggy black pants while Vaughn was in a shining green button-up. The bouncer eyed the three, Sydney standing in the middle with her arms wrapped around both of the guy's waists, looking back at him with black-rimmed eyes.

The giant of a man let them pass as Vaughn reached his hand back and grabbed her ass, Sydney sending him a warning with her eyes despite the wicked smile she flashed.

"Can I grab your ass too?" Weiss whispered, Vaughn answering 'no' with his eyes.

They moved through the club to the bar, three sets of eyes scanning the maze until they spotted the bedroom near the back of the bar.

"You two blend in, I'll go get us a room," Weiss wiggled his eyebrows, Sydney laughing as he sauntered over to a rather intimidating man standing beside the bedroom's one entrance.

Vaughn turned her toward him with his hands against her shoulders, Sydney maneuvering easily in his arms as his mouth began blazing a path down her jaw toward her ear.

"You okay with this? You're pretty possessive today," she mumbled through clenched teeth as he nipped at a particularly sensitive spot.

"I’m not looking forward to seeing you and Eric…" he left off.

"Maybe I won't have to-" she mumbled, a hand tapping her shoulder as she turned to see Weiss' embarrassed face.

"Kiss me," he mumbled, his form gesturing to the bouncer with unconvinced eyes staring directly at the three of them. "He said he wants proof," he mumbled, tossing each of them an apologetic stare.

While Vaughn paled slightly, Sydney didn't even blink. Sliding into her alias, she tossed the uncooperative bouncer a sexy smile before grabbing Weiss' head, slamming her lips over his. She could feel Michael's eyes on them both as Eric pushed aside the deep- rooted feeling of betraying his friend and wrapped his large arms around Sydney's smaller frame. Her tongue swirled around his for a brief moment before they both pulled away from one another, Sydney turning and doing the same with Vaughn, shaking him from his stupor.

"Sorry, baby," she muttered after pulling away, both men jumping into their roles to throw smug grins at the cocky bouncer. Turning away from the three of them to unlock the bedroom door, he pulled a cell from his pocket.

"Probably calling the management to inform our creep that he's about to get a show," Vaughn muttered as Sydney grabbed both boys' hands, leading them to the now opened room. She tucked her hair behind her ear nonchalantly, pushing the small button on the backs of the large earring, hoping that Marshall's sound jamming device would work.

Weiss pulled the backpack off his shoulder as the scruffy man looked through it, pulling out a video camera and a tripod, winking at the guard before closing the door in his face.

"Okay guys, just…gimme a minute," Marshall paused in their ear before flickering back to life. "Okay, you've got fifteen seconds before the signal is jammed, so you're gonna have to…act."

Sydney didn't say anything in response, turning and seeing Weiss pretending to struggle in setting up the video camera. That left her with Vaughn. She shoved him back toward the large bed, having to admit that for a sex room in a club, this one it wasn't as bad as some others they'd been in. She pounced on her boyfriend, her mouth sliding over his as her hands fretted with the buttons of his shirt.

His tongue stroked hers as she moaned into his mouth, the sudden vibration causing a burst of lust to rush from his brain to his groin. His hands suddenly joined the action, rubbing from her back up to her curled hair, and then skimming downward until he cupped her ass.

"You seem pretty preoccupied with my ass there, big guy," she grinned against his mouth, hearing Marshall interrupt.

"You do know that…we hooked into their system…right?"

"Why do you ask, Marshall?"

"No reason. That was…pretty hot, though," he giggled, feeling more than seeing Jack Bristow's glare before jumping back into the mission. "You guys should be good for about ten minutes, maybe less."

"Thanks, Marshall," Vaughn grumbled sarcastically as they all three got to work.

Within five of the ten allotted minutes, Vaughn had the hole drilled and maneuvered to the LCD screen as Weiss inserted the camera through the ceiling. Sydney sat on the bed with the laptop ready as she waited for Vaughn's signal.

The whole operation took less than seven minutes, Marshall uploading the data from the computer faster than he'd originally thought as he gave them a thirty-second warning.

Sydney quickly ripped off her shirt and ordered the boys to do the same so it would look like they were in the process of redressing for the cameras when they turned back on. Packing all of their stuff, Sydney gave Weiss and Vaughn another kiss before they exited the bedroom and finally the club, where they found a cab and made a break for the airport.

"Vaughn, how much do you want to bet that Syd's dad saw you groping her?" Weiss joked, the glare his friend sent being redirected by the ringing of his cell phone.

Eric stowed his things as Michael talked, the sudden worry in his voice alerting the other passengers to a conversation with Jack Bristow.

" _ I hope that's not the etiquette that you use on every mission, Agent Vaughn _ ,"

"Of course not, Jack, only the missions with Sydney," Vaughn retorted without thinking of his safety…or the safety of his boys.

" _ Your plane is going to be rerouted; there was an echelon interception that leads us to believe Sloane and Sark are in Bangladesh. We'll see you all back on Tuesday _ ."

The crisp conversation quickly over, Vaughn tossed his cell into the bag and stowed it in an overhead compartment. "We get to go to Bangladesh. Apparently they got some intel on Sloane and we need to look into it. Be prepared for a long flight," he sighed, flopping onto the sofa next to Sydney as she leaned into his shoulder.

"I'm gonna get a drink, you two interested?" Weiss called, moving to the mini bar in the back of the plane.

"I've got cards," Sydney suggested, wiggling out of Vaughn's grasp and jumping to get said item from her carry on.

Two hours later the three of them were a half-step beyond plastered as they attempted to play BlackJack, strewn across the airplane cabin's floor.

"Ha! 21!"

"Eric, that's 19," Vaughn laughed, Sydney showing that she'd once again managed to score a Blackjack, collecting the pot while taking another shot of pineapple rum.

"Look, I had no counting…stuff…before I'm drunk…le's do sumthin' else," Weiss slurred, drinking the rest of the rum straight from the bottle as Vaughn finished off another little bottle of the brandy, grabbing another.

"Or speesh, obvisly," he muttered, Sydney giggling through another shot as Michael leaned over and pressed a kiss to her shoulder.

"Gawd…you two's like bunnies!" Weiss growled as he grabbed Syd's shot glass and downed it before she had a chance to. Unfortunately, with his dexterity at a minimum and more than slightly fuzzed with the alcohol, most of the shot managed to splatter down his chin and onto his shirt.

"Well…if'n we'd gotten busy b'fore the damn mission, I wouldn' be horny as hell," Vaughn flipped Weiss off with a chuckle before diving into Sydney's neck again, his nose pushing loose strands out of the way as Weiss shook his head at the two of them.

"I dunno, Vaughn," Sydney gulped down some more rum. "Weiss is a pr'ty good kiss'r." She felt him pull away, expecting to see a glare in his jade eyes.

Instead, there was an unknown fire burning in the depths. Something…elusive.

"Prove it," he ground out.

"What?" A sudden sense of sober washed over her, though the edges were still laced with haze.

"Prove it."

Weiss shook his head to try and clear it, though no manner of shaking would remove the cotton ball taking residence around his brain. "Dude…this ishn't a good…thing…plan," he stuttered, trying to sit up.

"You're serious." It wasn't a question, more like a statement, and Vaughn only answered by a fiery nod of the head.

Sydney looked at Weiss…

Weiss looked at Sydney…

Both weighed their options until Vaughn crossed his arms over his chest, waiting with raised eyebrows. Sydney cautiously scooted closer to Eric, her eyes still holding Vaughn's until she turned her head and met Weiss' deer-in-headlights expression.

"You gonna beat th' 'ell outta me if I do this?" he asked Michael one last time, seeing his friend's shake before focusing all of his attention on the woman in front of him.

He cupped her face gently, pulling her closer as she knelt beside him, both hands pressed against his chest. They kissed tentatively, expecting Vaughn to change his mind at any moment, but when no warning came, their actions deepened.

_ 'Weiss kisses nothing like Vaughn,' _ Sydney thought as Eric's tongue skimmed her lips and asked for permission to enter her mouth.  _ 'Vaughn is all…enveloping. Eric's kinda sweet and tender.' _

Vaughn watched as their mouths molded together, getting an itch of desire in his palms. Crawling up behind the crouching young woman, he pressed a kiss to her shoulder. Her lips popped away from Eric's, Vaughn reassuring them to continue as Weiss' hands slipped up to Sydney's waist. She moved over him, Eric spreading open his legs so she'd fit in between as Vaughn followed her from behind.

Sydney and Weiss' tongues dueled as Vaughn blazed a trail down her neck, his hands slipping between their two bodies and beginning to lift the hem of her t-shirt. The two pulled apart only for the removal of her top, the sight of the black lace making both men groan. Sydney was left with an erratic pulse and turbulent breathing as two very different mouths attacked her throat.

Tilting toward Vaughn as she sat on her knees, Eric inching his body back until he rested comfortably against the couch. He watched Michael's hands traced her abdomen with skill, his lips sucking her earlobe into his mouth as she arched against him. Her position – rocking back on her heels – made it all too easy for his kneeling legs to surround her, forcing his body directly against hers.

_ 'They really do make a great couple,' _ he thought, his mind quickly being redirected by his tightening groin, his cock taking over the thought process.  _ 'Yeah, a  _ **_hot_ ** _ couple where the guy is askin' you to join in! Don't just sit,  _ **_stick me in there_ ** _!’ _

Vaughn’s hands surrounded her breasts, her eyes opened to fix Eric with a heavy-lidded gaze. She could see the beginning of a tent in his baggy pants, her mind straying as she mentally compared the two men.

_ 'This is silly, you haven't even seen it yet!' _ she internally scolded, though a sudden endorphin rush pooling at her center stopped all thought processes in a hurry. Hands were everywhere, and she really didn't know which ones belonged to whom, but she wasn't sure she cared any longer. As Michael set to undoing her bra, Eric came out of his trance and reached out to trace her abdomen.

Weiss leaned back up, Sydney meeting him as she pulled away from her comfortable spot against Vaughn's chest to smash their mouths together.  _ 'Well…so much for the tender and sweet Eric.' _

His tongue shoved its way past her pouted lips, snaking around hers before setting out to memorize her. His mouth pulled away, leaving her gasping as he bent down to confiscate one of her newly freed nipples into his heated depths. A turnabout from the kiss, he was almost too gentle…reverent. While his teeth, lips, and tongue were busy at one peak, his gigantic hands showered the other with attention.

Vaughn had almost forgotten to act, his hands settled over Sydney's hips as he watched Eric devour his girl's breasts from his bird's eye view over her bare shoulder. A rush of blood jumped to his cock, a small spurt of precum soaking into the front of his boxers as his cock stood to full attention inside its cloth prison.

He leaned back far enough to pull his own shirt off, tossing it somewhere behind him to join Sydney's, though he wasn't sure where they'd landed. His hands moved up her back as he massaged the tense muscles, her hand reaching back for him. He leaned toward her, Sydney's fingers delving past his face to the back of his neck, gripping the short hair and pulling him around to the side so she could access his mouth.

Vaughn was a willing participant, keeping his lower body pleasantly pushed against her backside and tilting his upper body until their lips found one another. Her kiss was all wet heat, sucking his tongue in to duel with hers as she tried to steal the very breath from his lungs.

Eric switched from the right breast to the left, giving it as much attention as its partner. She dimly felt Vaughn's hands circle around from the back to the front, settling over her trousers and undoing them deftly.

"Wait," she croaked out, both men freezing simultaneously. "Why do I have to be the only one naked here?" she asked, each letting out a pent up breath they hadn't recalled holding in as they reluctantly pulled farther apart.

Eric moved back to lean against the couch, feeling a draft and looking down to see that she'd already unbuttoned his shirt. Shrugging, he slid his arms out and worked at his belt.

Vaughn felt her eyes on him as he slowly unbuttoned his pants, seeing the shock in her face at the realization that he'd removed his shirt without her knowing.  _ 'Ten points for being a spy,' _ he congratulated himself mentally as she turned to help Weiss remove his trousers completely.

Once both were in boxers and nothing but, Sydney stood and slowly began to strip from her black dress pants. Once they pooled around her feet, she made a show of stepping out of them to stand before the two kneeling men in nothing but a skimpy pair of underwear, black lace to match the bra now thrown across the room.

"I love your legs, Syd," Weiss mumbled, pressing a kiss to her knee as she smiled, feeling Michael's hands skim her thighs up to her hips, his fingers catching the sides of the delicate panties and pulling them down slowly. Placing a kiss to the small of her back, Eric got his first glimpse of Sydney Bristow.

_ 'I don't think it's possible, but I think I just had an orgasm without having one,' _ he thought as his eyes scanned her perky breasts, flat and toned abdomen, the small patch of neatly-trimmed curls at the juncture of her thighs, continuing down the long runner's legs and back up again in a matter of seconds.

"You're beautiful," he mumbled, feeling self-conscious for the first time that evening as he reverted his eyes to the jet's carpet.

"No time for that," she reassured, kneeling between his legs once more, his back resting comfortably against the couch as she pressed her chest against his. Sweeping in for a wet kiss, Vaughn crawled his way up to her after kicking his boxers off, letting her feel his erection against the cleft of her ass.

Subconsciously pushing back toward him, her hands reaching down between her and Weiss to find the straining bulge in his underwear.

_ 'Feels about the same length as Vaughn…only wider _ ,' she mused, her hand wrapping around his shaft through the cotton.

Eric hissed, his head dropping back to the cushion of the leather couch, Vaughn standing and leaving them for a moment to grab something from his carry on bag. She had his boxers around his knees by the time Vaughn returned, a large pink bottle and two condoms in his hands.

"Dude…Sydney's lotion isn't gonna help here," Weiss complained, Vaughn tossing him a grin and holding the bottle label-up so he could read it. "Lube?! You guys just…carry that around in your suitcase?!" he asked excitedly, Michael popping the top and spreading some over his hands before slipping them around Sydney's breasts.

"Not just lube…I paid thirty bucks for that damn bottle when she dragged me into Fascinations." He tossed it to Eric. "It warms up with friction."

Turning on his sex-voice, he mumbled his last sentence into Sydney's ear as his hands began massaging her breasts, the tingling sensation beginning around the outside before setting fire to her painfully hard nipples. She arched into his hands with a throaty moan, Vaughn chuckling as his hands skimmed down her stomach, a wake of flames following his deft fingers until he reached the patch of curls. Eric slipped the condom on with practiced hands, his eyes not leaving the scene.

Sydney snatched the bottle from Eric's fingers, putting an ample amount into the palm of her hand before wrapping it around his hard cock. Weiss groaned low in his chest, his eyes squeezing shut as she fisted him a few times to allow the warming to begin before letting go, the wide rod slapping back against his stomach as he looked up at her with frowning eyes.

"Patience," she scolded, running the tip of her index finger from root to the mushroomed head before lifting the bottle back up and putting a dollop into her hand, reaching back for Vaughn's straining erection and doing the same with him as he slid a well-coated finger into her pussy. Eric grabbed his own cock and began fisting it slowly as he watched his two friends torture one another with pleasure before Sydney turned to him.

Moving so that Weiss' legs were together and she was able to straddle them, she slithered up his body until his torso was supporting her upper body. Pushing up by setting her hands against the couch on either side of his head, she hovered over his body like a naughty angel. Sydney took his mouth once more, running her wet channel over his straining hardness two or three times until he took the initiative to reach down. He took himself in hand and aligned his swollen head with her dripping opening.

Eric peeked over her shoulder to Vaughn once more, seeing the lust and confirmation in his friend's emerald gaze. Without further ado, he lowered her gently over his dick, the tightness of her channel accentuating the lubrication they were using, the artificial cherry scent of filling the air.

Inch by inch she sucked him farther into her heated body until there was nowhere else to go. He paused, letting her adjust to his girth as her muscles rhythmically clenched his swollen shaft.

Sydney thought she would die from a sensation overload, but was further surprised as she felt Vaughn's well-coated finger begin to probe her back opening.  _ 'He's not gonna…he is. We've only done that once though…and it hurt like hell,' _ she fought in her mind, turning her head.

He seemed to sense her trepidation, reassuring her with a kiss between her shoulder blades as he inserted his finger up to the knuckle, his mouth continuing to travel around her upper back and neck.

Weiss got the message loud and clear. With strong arms he lifted her off of his lap to give him room to thrust, letting go only when she agreed to stay there of her own volition. Pulling out completely and flopping against his stomach, she reached down and pressed him back in as he surged his hips upward, one hand trickling down as his thumb began pressing circles into her clit.

The slippery ointment was doing its job as she felt a heat begin to spread through her core, radiating into her whole body. Vaughn inserted another finger, using her momentary lapse to prepare her body for yet another entry. He could feel Weiss as he pushed insistently into her warmth, the knowledge that someone else was inside her strange and erotic, making him eager to press his own hardness into her pliant body. He grabbed the condom and rolled it with one hand over his cock, spreading out the warming goop over his latex-covered shaft.

Sydney was reaching her peak quickly, but she wasn't stupid. She knew what they were doing and applauded them for it, preparing herself for a unique combination of pleasure and pain. The first crest of her orgasm hit, Eric pulling from her channel and inserting two fingers in place of his length. His thumb continued to circle her bundle of nerves as Vaughn placed the head of his cock against the newly prepared opening, pressing it in as she came around Weiss' fingers. She was far too busy to regard Michael's intrusion as her hands moved from the couch to Eric's chest, propping herself at an angle over his body.

The new tilt of her form was perfect for Vaughn to push himself slowly until he was firmly tucked into her tight passage. For a moment he could feel Weiss' fingers still moving slowly inside her, Sydney coming down from her high as Michael set his chin to her shoulder. Wrapping an arm around her stomach she turned to meet his mouth for a gentle kiss as Eric suctioned his lips over the racing pulse point at her throat.

Almost as slow as his entrance, Vaughn pulled back until only his glans was inside her. Grabbing the discarded lube from the floor, he applied some more to his shaft before sliding back home.

"This too much? You okay?" His breath brushed across her sensitive cheek as she nodded dumbly, spurring him to thrust again

They moved back and forth over their friend, Eric's mouth and hands busy with showering Sydney's body with attention and affection. Her kitten-like mewls and tiger-like growls were probably the hottest thing he'd ever heard during sex. It wasn't until her deft fingers wrapped around his throbbing need that he groaned against her right peak, his tongue forgetting momentarily how to work the bud as his hips thrust in time with her pumping hand.

She and Vaughn shifted, moving higher as Michael straddled both Eric and Sydney's legs for purchase to thrust. Her hands around Weiss' cock moved as well, pointing him directly at her wet core, his eyes meeting hers with concern shining in their depths. She reassured him with a brief smile as she cupped Vaughn's cheek where he'd pressed his face into her neck. Eric spotted the brief moment of tenderness as Michael kissed her palm, pushing in completely and holding still while waiting for Eric's entry.

Since she wasn't exactly able to lower herself over him, he lifted his hips as her soft fingers guided him into her body, inch by inch. He forced himself to go slow, though his mind really just ached to shove his straining erection into the warm velvet heat, he took his time – inch by agonizing inch.

Weiss' eyes never left hers, searching for any discomfort in her almost black depths, though he had to study her face as the sensations overwhelmed her and her eyes closed. They stopped only when the base of his cock was pushing against her nether-lips, and Weiss fought the urge to pull away when he briefly felt Vaughn against his taut balls.

_ 'It's not considered gay when I'm inside of a hot woman…is it?' _ his mind thought, stopping only when Sydney's voice broke through the fog.

"You guys gonna move or something?" she hissed, Vaughn pressing a kiss against her jaw as Eric laughed from below her. "I'm not made of glass."

_ 'Damn right you're not. Glass wouldn't be this hot unless it's being blown. Well…back to the gutter we go!'  _ Eric cracked a smile at his mental innuendo, Vaughn pulling back and pushing slowly back in, a very tentative thrust.

The deep sweet moan Sydney emitted let them both know that all pretenses of discomfort had quickly been thrown out the window in favor of all-encompassing pleasure. Waiting until Michael was back in completely, Eric coordinated the next thrust to be simultaneous. Both straining erections pulled almost completely out before entering once more, Sydney feeling overly full as they built up a rhythm.

_ 'This isn't gonna take too long,' _ she thought, feeling another orgasm rising up from the boiling pit of her stomach.  _ 'I wonder how many times I can get off before they do,' _ she pondered as Eric's next push hit her g-spot.

Vaughn was constantly throwing her off, switching his pattern with a pause, letting Weiss thrust for a few seconds before starting up again.

"I know how close you are," he whispered harshly into her ear, a smile spreading her lips as he snaked an arm around to pinch and pull at her over sensitive nipple. She thrust against Weiss, groaning as the tip of his cock repeatedly bounced off the entrance of her cervix. His head had flopped back against the cushion of the couch in ecstasy as his hands moved from her hips to her the sides of her ribcage, giving Vaughn room to hold her against his chest.

She tightened with a groan around both pumping shafts, Vaughn's hand moving down to flick her clit twice as she came hard. A restrained scream squeezed from her throat as she tossed her head back to Michael's shoulder, arms limp at her sides as the men grunted at the sudden constriction of their full cocks, thinking that maybe they wouldn't last as long as they thought.

Picking up the pace, they thrust at different intervals, occasionally pressing in at the same time. Weiss' hands moved down to her unoccupied hips as Vaughn's wrapped around her completely, his hands hooking together over her stomach. Picking her head up off of his shoulder, she let her fingers trace his sinewy forearms before threading them into his own over her abdomen. She held onto Vaughn for the ride, both of them supporting her weight as Eric pushed and pulled her accordingly over his engorged shaft by her hips.

"I'm not…gonna last," Weiss' warning was grunted in a harsh whisper as he quickened his pace, Vaughn doing the same as he clung to Sydney's hands, his sac moving closer to his body in search of the impending release.

Eric pushed his thumb over her clit, grinding repeatedly over the nubbin in an attempt to make her lose control just one more time over their thrusting cocks. Her warm channel began to constrict in pulses, a low humming leaving her throat as Vaughn stifled a groan by burying his face against her throat, his breath cooling the sweat along her throat.

With a gasp and a cry she came, Weiss unable to contain his cum any longer as his hoarse shout mingled with hers, his cock spasming as he continued to thrust until he was utterly spent, the condom catching his seed as he panted and groaned.

Eric removed himself from her still squeezing opening as Vaughn pulled from her backside, ripping off the condom before redirecting himself and surging into her where Eric had just vacated.

"One more time, baby…just once," he grunted as he rode her hard and fast, their hands still semi-joined over her stomach. Weiss could only watch as his hand remained at her entrance, his finger lazily flicking the over sensitized button.

Sydney tilted back against Michael, the last climax never really dissipating, merely keeping her on the edge of something larger. She was slightly surprised with Vaughn's animalistic plundering of her already used femininity, but she wasn't exactly complaining. With each thrust of his cock, and possibly due to their new angle, the bulbous head kept a constant pressure over her g-spot. She let her head fall to his shoulder, his lips automatically sucking at the flushed skin along the juncture of neck and shoulder.

They exploded together, Sydney's fingernails digging into his wrists as he continued to move inside her while emptying his balls.

"What the  **hell** is going on here?" Jack Bristow's booming voice filled the fuselage. Eric whipped his head to look where the senior officer was standing with his arms folded over his chest, his eyes taking in the scene with barely contained anger.

With that, Weiss bolted upright - a thin film of sweat covering his body underneath his clothes.

_ 'Wait…clothes?' _ his mind registered slowly.

The phone call…

The mission to Bangladesh…

Sydney and Vaughn curling up together to sleep out the long flight leaving him on his own side of the plane…

Turning his head, he spotted his two friends comfortably nestled together on the small couch. They'd compensated by having Vaughn lie on his back with her draped over him, her head resting over his heart as one of his hands rested at the small of her back while the other played gently with her long hair.

"Jesus…" he muttered, slapping his hands over his face, Michael turning to look over at his friend with a questioning gaze.

"You okay?"

"Umm…yeah, just had a…bizarre dream. Did I say anything?"

"No, but you did move around a bit. I tried to wake you up but you didn't respond when the peanut bounced off of your forehead." Vaughn grinned, Sydney shifting against him as he tilted down and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Bad dream?"

"Nah…but not entirely good either. I'm gonna go splash some cold water on my face."  _ 'And my cock,'  _ he added silently, making a beeline for the bathroom.

Staring long and hard at his flushed reflection, he couldn't help but groan as his rock hard cock brushed up against the scratchy fabric of his boxers. With a quick zip and a few routine tugs, he relieved himself, a well-placed handful of paper towels catching the jism as he held in a moan.

_ 'I'm pretty sure that just rated as the hottest dream I've ever had. And that totally beats out anything with that hot little Jessica Simpson.' _ He chuckled in agreement with himself before washing his hands and making sure he was somewhat presentable, though there were a few questions floating through his mind.

"Hey man, you have any lotion? My hands are all itchy," he asked, Vaughn pointing up to his carry on.

"I think so, if not, I'm sure Syd does. She's a girl," Vaughn explained.

"I can hear you," she mumbled from her spot on his chest, tucking her hand underneath her cheek with a small smile though she kept her eyes closed.

They laughed quietly, Eric grabbing Vaughn's bag and rifling through, his eyes spotting a pink bottle.  _ 'No way…' _

He pulled out said item, Vaughn vainly reaching to grab it from his hands as Sydney groaned, opening her eyes and fixing them both with a glare.

"Dude…strawberry lotion?"

"That's Sydney's," Michael defended, looking to his girlfriend for help.

"Dream on. You like it because it smells good," she groused, her head landing back over his chest as he rolled his eyes.

"Hey…at least it's not cherry lube," Eric stated, tossing the lotion back into the bag and falling down into the couch, turning his back toward his friends in an attempt to get some sleep. Shaking off the remnants of his dream, he sighed before slipping into slumber.

**…**


	8. Ice, Ice, Baby

**Chapter 8: Ice, Ice, Baby**

"You're kidding, right?" Sydney balked, her wide brown eyes jumping to Vaughn's ecstatic, unshaven face.

"Nope," he grinned, sliding his hands into his pockets as his eyes flashed down to his shoes in a brief moment of embarrassment at her sudden attention.

"You did all of this for me?"

"It's your birthday, Sydney, I wanted it to be special."

"So you rented the entire ice-skating rink just for us?"

"Yep."

"Just us two?"

"Yep," he pulled out the keys with a wink. "I know a guy, pulled a favor, and he agreed. It's just you and me."

A giddy feeling began like butterflies in her stomach at the prospect of having the entire day off to spend with Vaughn at the rink. An entire day of goofing off like kids on the ice sounded like a pleasant reprieve from the harsh reality of their lives. Leaning up on her toes, one hand tickling the hair at the back of his neck to pull him toward her, she pressed a sweet kiss to his lips as Michael grabbed their hockey stuff off of the counter, seeing the bill resting underneath the gym bag.

Snagging it before she could see the ridiculous amount of money he's spent in order to reserve the arena for their own personal use, he shoved it into his back pocket as they walked toward the family locker rooms to store their gear and put their skates on.

An hour later, her cheeks rosy and nose runny due to the cold temperature, she conned Vaughn into a one on one hockey game.

"I know you'll kick my ass, but humor me. I've been getting better!"

His response was just to laugh and skate away from her toddling stance on the slick surface. "Whatever you say, Syd," he grinned, elegantly making his way to the bench and grabbing his stick, as well as a somewhat smaller stick wrapped in bright pink and purple wrapping paper. "Time for present number one."

She laughed when he presented it to her, the dimples caving her cheeks in a way that made his heart speed up. "I wonder what it is?"

The smaller, lighter – and in general – more feminine hockey stick was the perfect size for her as she tested its weight in her gloved hands. Her eyes caught the large bold letters from the top to the bottom reading SYDNEY. "Are you sure this isn't a gift for you that just has my name written on it?"

"Hah. Hardly. I just figured that with all the time we've spent here over the last year or so, you know – you might want your own."

"Thank you, it's a great gift." She leaned up to kiss him once more, momentarily forgetting that she was in skates rather than shoes. Her feet slid back, Michael's arms wrapping around her torso before she had a chance to smash into the ice. "My hero."

"You're lucky I was here ma'am. That would have been a nasty fall." Sliding into a deep voice and cocking his eyebrow in an imitation of a superhero, she pushed him away with a giggle.

After a brief kiss, the game started. To Vaughn's surprise, she was holding her own on the ice. He wasn't keeping score, of course, but she was doing remarkably better than in their previous solo hockey matches. After a half hour or so, she begged for a break.

"I don't do this all the time! Look, you practice, and I'll be back for round two. I'm gonna go get a drink." He agreed, watching her skate on wobbly legs to the opening and climbing out before disappearing into the locker rooms entrance.

What started out as just a few shots into the net became an all out hockey practice for him. His mind focused completely solely on the puck and his footwork, gliding from one end of the rink and firing at the net – missing rarely. After twenty minutes and one missed shot later, he stopped. His breathing was ragged and sweat had coated his entire body, most only showing on his face, neck and now damp hair. Pulling his hand out of a large glove, he ran it through his hair, frowning as the chilled sweat covered his fingers.

The sudden thought of Sydney popped into his head, and he looked up from the ice for the first time since she’d left. She wasn't anywhere on the chilled surface, but he finally spotted her sitting on the edge with a warm smile on her face. A blush tinted his cheeks as he skated over to where her dangling legs were swaying back and forth, opening to accommodate his warm body before closing around the small of his back.

"I love watching you play," she murmured, eyes taking in his sweaty, breathless appearance with a grin, noticing for the first time that he looked almost the exact way after sex – only with less attire.

"Sorry I forgot about you, I got in the zone."

"Well, I don't mind at all. It totally turns me on watching you do something you love."

"Does that mean we should put a mirror on the ceiling?"

Her only answer was a patented eye-roll and the lowering of her mouth to his. What started as a brief, almost chaste, kiss, escalated into something more urgent. Sydney's mouth opened up to his insistent tongue, the flavor uniquely Vaughn as well as the spearmint gum he'd been chewing causing small sparks of electricity to shoot from her sensitive lips to her brain, and finally out to other areas.

Pulling his gloves off behind her back, his hands wormed their way underneath her layers to find the warm skin waiting for him. She gasped slightly at the mixing of her heated skin and his cool fingertips, their lips popping apart. Sucking in a lungful of air, Vaughn was the first to open his eyes. The lovely flush to her cheeks – he thought – was something other than the chilled air of the arena, though his second thought sent blood directly to his groin.

_ 'Could we get away with having sex at the ice rink?' _

"We could get away with it you know…there's no one here," Sydney's answer made his attention snap back to the willing young woman in his arms.

"How'd you know that's what I was thinking?" His words were muffled by her skin as he dove in to trace the column of her throat, his tongue lashing at the sensitive spot below her earlobe.

She moaned, her gloved hands digging into his shoulders through his thick sweatshirt as his own hands moved up, unclasping her bra without her really noticing. "because I know how you think, most of the time."

"Is it because I'm a guy?"

"Because you're too much like me."

He nodded, pulling her back onto the ice as she hesitated. "You're kidding right? I'm not gonna do it with you on the ice. I was hoping for somewhere a little…less cold?"

He just laughed, tugging her closer to the edge, pushing his hips up against hers. "Scared?"

"Of you or getting frostbite on my ass?"

"Both."

"Well, I know how to handle you, but the moment they have to amputate my cheeks because of gangrene I'll ban you from sex for the rest of your life." Her voice was a sexy whisper against the column of his throat, the shudder wracking his body having nothing to do with the chill of the rink.

He compromised. "Well…who said anyone had to be on the bottom?" he asked before sucking a mark to her neck.

She pulled her head back, her eyes questioning as he pulled her smaller gloves from the inside of his jacket, slipping them over her frozen fingers before lifting her off of the wall and skating awkwardly toward the benches where the players usually sat.

"Vaughn…what are you doing?"

"Hush."

His order was playful yet serious, and she somewhat obeyed, though it was never something she'd been used to doing willingly. Still, she had no way to object after he'd fastened his mouth over hers, his tongue commandeering her mouth before she could react.

Nimble fingers unbuttoned buttons, unzipped zippers, but leaving most of the clothes on to keep out the cold, despite the fact that neither party was chilled. With pants and underwear pushed down around their hips, the gloves were abandoned as fingers and hands went to work to finish stimulating their already sensitive bodies.

Sydney groaned against the corner of Michael's mouth as he inserted a finger to the knuckle inside her wet warmth, her hand gripping his hardness with a tight squeeze as Vaughn’s moan echoed hers before he pushed her away momentarily. Turning her away from him before pushing her to her knees on the players bench and walking up behind her.

"You're loving this aren't you?" she asked with a pant as he crawled up behind her, lowering his chest to her back as his arms wrapped around her torso to prop himself up with the heels of his hands resting against the cold steel of the bench.

"Loving what? Having you bent over the benches I sit on each Sunday during my games?"

"Maybe…"

"Don't know what you're talkin' about," he muttered before pushing his engorged shaft completely into her body, her shocked expression and reaction making him laugh before pushing aside the hair at the nape of her neck to press a kiss against her soft skin.

Sydney turned her head finding his mouth as his hips pulled back slowly, though he couldn’t make it a full thrust and settled by pressing back in just as slow. A moan moved passed his lips as his tongue shot out to duel with hers, his hands propped just behind hers on the less than wide bench below them. Their stance, with him over her back, kept his thrusts short and sweet as his hips did all the work, though she couldn’t help but rock her body back to meet him.

Michael pushed off of the bench and sat up, their lips smacking as they separated. He set his hands on her hips to aid in pulling her back to meet his thrusts, a groan bubbling up from his chest as he bottomed out inside her.

“This angle is amazing, we should do this more often,” his exclamation was a harsh whisper, her nod from below her agreement as she panted and pressed her hot forehead into the cool metal. The deep bend raised her back end higher, the unusual position forcing the blunt head of his erection to collide with her g-spot.

The churn and fire grew in her stomach quickly as her fingers wrapped around the edge of the bench, knuckles turning white as her climax loomed on the horizon. Michael’s grip tightened as his hands slid down from her hips to the top of her thighs, his arms straining to pull her back with each forward push of his waist. Skipping the long slide in and out he transitioned to quick and hard half thrusts, but he found that he was missing the slapping sound of their flesh as their clothes muffled the usual noises from their lovemaking. 

“Michael, I-” she whined, his first name tumbling from her lips making him smile as he knew that only in  _ this  _ moment when the sex was  _ really  _ good did she not call him Vaughn. Crying out her muscles convulsed, and she came hard around his thrusting member. The tremors and contractions around him proved to be too much as he exploded with a hoarse shout, his seed spurting in pulses before he collapsed in a clothed yet sweaty heap against her back.

Unfortunately, her arms gave way from their shaky position on the bench. His forced weight made Sydney fall to her chest and stomach, her chin hitting with a pang against the metal.

"Oh, shit - baby, I’m sorry," he muttered, pushing off of her quickly as she chuckled from below him slightly out of breath. He helped her up, a drop of blood landing below them. "You’re bleeding."

She couldn't help but laugh as he grabbed her glove from the floor and setting it gently against her chin before zipping his pants back up and zooming across the ice to grab his gym bag.

"It’s okay, I've got a first aid kit in here," he explained as she stood up and put her clothes back together as he took out the kit and the parts he'd need to bandage up her wound. "Doesn't look like this is gonna stop hon, you might need stitches."

"Really? That's exciting!" she exclaimed, Vaughn rolling his eyes. "What? I mean, c'mon! It's our first sex related injury! And on my birthday no less."

"Not including the time that I left the hickey on your neck the day after we started dating resulting in your father slamming me up against the wall and giving me a concussion?"

"Didn't count. Wasn't during sex,"

Vaughn countered with a grin, wadding up a piece of gauze and pressing it to her bloody chin. "C'mon, we'll have to get to the doctor."

A short drive to the urgent care, and nearly a half-hour after they called her back, Sydney walked from the hallway to see her boyfriend crouched on the floor with a toddler building a tower out of blocks in the small, family waiting room. She thanked the doctor as Michael excused himself from the giggly toddler and moved to her side.

"How bad?"

"Four stitches. Quite possibly the most pleasurable wound I've ever gotten." Sydney leaned up on her tiptoes to press a kiss against his mouth as they walked back to the car.

"Weiss is gonna laugh his ass off at this one."

"Oh no he is not Michael Vaughn, because you are not going to tell him a thing. You and I made a deal."

"I had my fingers crossed."

"You want to have kids someday?"

"You offering?" he countered with a restrained chuckle, Sydney tossing him a glare as her retort was cut off by the ring of her cell phone. 

"Bristow," she grumbled, though her dimples were out in full force.

"Hey, chinless!" Eric's cheery voice burst through the phone as she reached over and punched Michael's shoulder, hanging up on the laughing cohort.

"Oh, you're gonna get it, Vaughn. Gonna get it gooooood," she warned, her mind thinking up several delicious scenarios for her smug-faced significant other.

**…**


	9. Giving Blood

**Chapter 9: Giving Blood**

Sydney could almost feel the angry aura emanating from the Blood Mobile. Shouldering her backpack and sending a fake smile at a young man walking by, she opened the door. Without looking further into the makeshift C.I.A. wagon, she securely latched the door behind her before chancing a glance at her secret partner.

He was sitting in his crisp, white oxford - holster hugging his broad chest and shoulders. Between the deep green eyes and the classy yet spiked hair were the wrinkles of his forehead, more pronounced due to the deep scowl he was firing in her direction.

"Look...before you say anything-"

"Don't. Don't speak...just sit."

"Excuse me? I'm not a child. Don't you dare talk to me like that."

Vaughn stood quickly, joining the fray. "I am your superior officer! You are going to do as I say during a mission!"

"You weren't there! You're never there! If you'd been in my situation, you would have understood. This is all I have, Vaughn - all I have to get me the hell out of this life!"

"Damn it Sydney, open your eyes!" Vaughn snarled before taking the three steps separating them and slamming his mouth over hers.

Taking advantage of her sudden gasp his tongue pressed quickly into her mouth to stroke her own before he pulled back finding her arms wrapped around his torso and lips swollen from his plundering.

"I worry about you constantly, but if you pull something like that again, I can't promise I'll be your handler when you get back."

He saw the pained flicker in her eyes mix with anger, and before she had a chance to speak his lips were once again smothering hers in a fiery kiss. He hauled her flush against his body, the wind leaving her lungs in a rush as he backed her up against a supply cabinet.

_ 'Jack's gonna kill me,'  _ Vaughn thought as he heard Sydney moan against his rough lips, his five o'clock shadow beginning to chafe her chin and cheeks.

Pulling their mouth's apart with a smack, Sydney forced herself to be rational and remember what the subject was before his initial attack.  _ 'Oh…that's right. I'm pissed.' _

"I'm not a child, so don't treat me like one."

Her handler merely nodded as his hands worked at freeing her shirt from their wedged spot inside her jeans, undoing the button there as well. Her own fingers were toying with his holster, tracing the leather with a fingernail. Despite his initial desire to rip her a new one...this wasn't entirely what he'd been planning.

Sydney began to undo the buttons of his oxford, stopping quickly at Michael's harsh reprimand.

"Don't. There's not enough time for that anyway." His rough words were almost an order she would have complained over if his hot, insistent mouth wasn't over hers yet again. She heard more than felt the thud of her lower back as it was pushed into the top of a filing cabinet, and as instinct took over, she used her runner's legs to push herself up before wrapping said legs around Vaughn's waist.

The sudden rise of her thighs was making it difficult for his struggling hands to rid her hips of the confining denim. Pulling their mouths apart and attaching his suckling lips to her collar bone, he tilted her back until the reverberating thump of her head coming into contact with the mobile's wall was heard. He cast her a wicked smile, teeth nipping at her sensitive skin, forcing her to close her eyes and clutch his shoulders with a moan.

Finally managing to get her pants around her ankles, he was slightly shocked to see bright red lace winking at him in a sexy number tight around her hips.

"Just because I'm an English major doesn't mean I don't shop at Victoria's Secret," she whispered, lust gracing the edges of her voice as she pulled him closer. "Don't think that doing this will make me forgive you."

"Don't think that doing this will make me worry less about you."  _ 'Quite the contrary.' _ he finished in his mind.

"So we'll have hot angry sex and work shit out later." Michael growled, Sydney readily agreeing as she kicked off her trousers, her fingers brushing against his straining member as it jutted out the front of his black dress pants. The deep moan that erupted from his throat made her grin as he shoved her hands away and undid his belt, button, and zipper with one fumbling set of fingers, the other pushing aside her silken panties and shoved two fingers into her twitching heat.

She cried out, her fingers clawing up toward his holster and yanking him closer to her chest. Deeming her more than ready, he adjusted himself so his throbbing cock was aligned with her heated center and not wasting any time before thrusting to the hilt.

Vaughn grunted, shanking himself awake to see five sets of eyes focused solely on him, only one of which belonged to the woman he was fucking in his mind.

"Do you have something to add to the briefing Agent Vaughn?" Jack Bristow asked from the front of the room, Michael sitting up straight and trying to make it seem like he hadn't been dreaming about the intimidating man's daughter.

"Umm...no sir, I'm sorry. I...didn't get much sleep last night," he stuttered, clearing his throat and sitting back up in his chair, trying desperately to remember the last note he'd written down as he looked down to he and Sydney's joint notepad.

Miraculously, his semi-obedient girlfriend had taken into account his lack of awareness and had written down most of the pertinent information for him. Sending her a small smile, he wasn't prepared for the smirk she was sporting. Reaching her hand out and penning two words onto the corner of the pad, he frowned and looked down.

_ Wet spot _ ?

Peering down into his lap he saw his erection making itself known as a tent in his trousers, a small moist spot on the front. He cursed mentally, adjusting his jacket around his waist with a grumble.

Removing the cap from his pen, he added a small note underneath her jibe, Sydney tilting only her eyes to read it.

_ Zone 4. _

A bright dimpled smile formed on her lips as they tried in vain to pay attention to the rest of the meeting. Finally, moments after they adjourned, Sydney stood at her desk glancing over several files she'd received as a strong hand wrapped around her arm and yanked her away from her work.

She recognized him quickly, frowning in wonder until he began dragging her down a familiar hallway - into a familiar room. Slamming the door behind them and pulling her against him, his mouth latched onto the sensitive spot at the joint of her neck and shoulder.

"What’s gotten you all riled up?" she moaned, her voice a harsh whisper mixed with a gasp as Vaughn bit into her throat.

"Bloodmobile."

_ 'What?!' _ she thought, Michael's hand grasping and squeezing her breast making her incapable of speaking coherently. "I'll ask later," she groaned, feeling Vaughn’s nod against her chest before his teeth and mouth latched over her sensitive nipple through the fabric, pushing aside her blazer.

Putting any and all words aside, they wasted no time in unzipping Vaughn's pants, his hands busying themselves with hiking up her skirt and shoving aside her panties. Her warm hand wrapped around his stiff cock, Michael lunging without meaning to with his hips.

"Sweetie, I'm hard. You don't need to check," he chuckled, pretty sure she'd rolled her eyes even though he couldn't see anything in the darkness of the closet.

A breathy laugh brushed across his sweaty neck as she tilted his shaft down until it was perfectly in line with her wet center. Torturing him slightly as she skipped over her entrance and brushed the mushroom-like head against her clit.

"Syd," warning her with his tone, she brushed him past one last time before he took control of the situation. Wrapping his fingers around hers he coordinated it with a thrust until he was buried to the hilt inside her tight channel. Dropping her head to his shoulder, forehead colliding with the lapel of his suit jacket, Michael pulled out and lunged back in rapid succession.

_ 'This isn't gonna last very long,'  _ she thought, encircling his shoulders with her arms and his hips with her legs as he began to piston in and out. Pressing kisses to his ear and neck, Vaughn buried his hands into her loosened hair and pulled her back and crashed his mouth over hers. His tongue invaded like an army and quickly took command of her senses.

His loins began to boil, Sydney's walls clenching around his pumping shaft as they careened toward the impending explosion. A few well timed - and well placed - thrusts against her g-spot set the wanton woman off as she dug her fingernails into his shoulders and neck before trying to muffle her cry against the cotton of his clothes. The rhythmic squeezing of her channel was too much for him as Vaughn let out a guttural noise from the back of his throat as his orgasm rushed from his toes to the top of his head.

They slumped into a sweating, pulsating heap atop one of the many abandoned filing cabinets that lined the east wall. Sydney's fingers ran mundane patterns through his hair as he tried to calm himself down above her.

"So...exactly what were...were you thinking about in...in the briefing?" she gulped air into her lungs, words coming out between gasps.

"I was just thinking about having angry sex in the bloodmobile after a bum mission."

"But...why the bloodmobile? It was single-handedly the one place where we fought the most."

Vaughn laughed, pulling his body back until he remembered that Sydney was wrapped around him and keeping him from escaping the ring of her arms and legs. "I've fantasized too many times about the warehouse, I figured it'd be a good change of pace. But...we should get back before your dad realizes that I just had sex with his daughter."

"I think he knows that we sleep together. It’s been a year and a half."

"No. I don't think so. I probably wouldn't be alive if he knew." Pushing a kiss to her cheek after missing her nose from the lack of light, they separated and began redressing.

"We'll see about that," she chuckled and pulled him close for a final kiss, her tongue taking a moment to trace his lips before she opened the door and ran headlong into her father. "Shit - I mean...dad. What...what are...how..."

"I'll pretend that I'm not witnessing my daughter and her former handler exiting a closet in rumpled attire. Meeting in ten minutes."

"Another meeting?" she asked, trying to keep the blush from rising completely on its journey from neck to forehead.

"Unless you're busy, of course." Without further ado, he turned away from the ruffled young couple and walked calmly and fluidly down the hallway.

"Huh. Well...what do you know." Sydney mumbled, Michael poking his head out of the room with an unusually ashen face.

"What?" he squeaked, straightening his tie until it was almost unbearably tight.

"You  _ are  _ still alive...and I'm pretty sure my dad  **knows** now." She faced him with a small smile, rubbing her thumb over his forehead to try and squish away the dozen or so wrinkles that had recently made themselves known. Kissing the dimple of his chin before walking away and leaving the young man gaping in the hallway.

Sighing and mentally preparing himself for some sort of battle between his potential father and law and himself, he closed the door to the closet behind him.

_ 'I knew we'd get caught someday.' _

**…**


	10. How About Three?

**Chapter 10: How About Three?  
  
**

“You awake?” Vaughn’s voice was a hint of a whisper, not wanting to wake his sleeping wife if she was indeed asleep.

“No,” she mumbled, and he could tell she was barely awake. Barely was enough.

“I want kids.” His blurted statement made him wince and realize how awkward saying it out loud was after having the beginning of their conversation in his mind on repeat over the last two hours. One-sided of course.

He closed his eyes with a grimace feeling her shift. Reopening he saw her confused squint in the half-light of the dark bedroom as she sat up on her elbows.

“Like...right now?” 

He laughed at her question as some of the tension left his body. “No...I don’t know. I mean...we haven’t really talked about it.”

“What about work?”

“I mean, people aren’t spies forever - Jack notwithstanding.” She flopped onto her back with a chuckle. “Do...you...not want kids?”

She thought a moment before turning shining brown eyes on his worried face, the chisel of his jawline and dimpled chin outlined in the low light emitting from the opposite side of the room. “Yeah, I do. I just thought, you know, later. When we’re older and wiser.”

“I don’t want to sleep on the couch as punishment for saying this, but...we’re older.” He knew he was pushing, and the cynical sideways grin/glare she tossed his direction made him lean in to press a kiss to her forehead before flopping to his own side of the bed. “Sorry I just...seeing Will and Francie’s kid hit me harder than I thought it would. I didn’t think that guys could feel the biological clock tick, you know?”

He heard more than saw her nod as a comfortable, contemplative quiet settled in the room. Michael thought she’d drifted back toward sleep when she sat up and stepped out of bed, the camisole twisted a bit around her midsection and the hip-hugging underwear showing off her muscled backside. The light from the bathroom blinded him a bit as he too rose, curiosity perching him on the edge of the bed.

“How about this,” her voice sounded distant, the cabinet inside thumping as she closed it behind her. Stepping back into his view he saw the familiar container of birth control in her hand, a grin breaking out on his face as she held it over the trashcan and dropped it in with a clatter.

“Seriously?”

Sydney flipped the light off and left the bathroom, her path directly to his side of the bed to stand between his open legs. His hands settled on her hips as he looked up with soft adoration at his wife. “Yeah.” Her hands caressed patterns through his hair and over his shoulder as his fingers rubbed at the small of her back.

“Here’s the deal,” she continued. “We’ll see what happens, and when we get pregnant, no more field assignments.”

“For either of us.”

They nodded simultaneously, Sydney leaning down and pressing a light sweet kiss to his lips. His nose rubbed against hers as they parted, though their foreheads and clinging hands kept them merely a breath apart.

It was rare to have a nearly perfect moment, but Sydney found herself stumbling across them with Vaughn more than with anyone else she’d known. “We should practice trying, just to make sure,” his whisper broke said perfect moment, but in a way that she loved.

“You know I took it this morning. It won’t really stop working for like a week.”

Vaughn nodded as he slid his head down to pepper kisses along her jaw and neck blazing a trail of sparks straight to her center. “That’s why I said practice.” He traced her swallowing throat with his mouth in a slow trek south.

A soft sigh sneaked out from behind her lips, Sydney feeling like she was floating from his gentle ministrations. Reality stepped in attempting to ground her. “We have a flight at seven in the morning,” she reminded as her hooded eyes spied the bedside alarm clock, the angry red numbers reading 12:47.

“Good thing we can sleep on the plane,” his words, muffled by the soft skin at the crook of her neck, wafted the few inches to her ear in a gravelly whisper.

Sydney acquiesced by settling her knees into the soft mattress across his legs, effectively straddling his lap. This placed her cotton-covered core directly over his straining boxers, his exhale blowing a rush of hot air across her chest. His fingers slid under her top, hooking the hem and lifting until her perky breasts were pressing against his bare chest. 

Strong arms wrapped around her lithe frame as he pushed his face into her neck and held her tight, the steady beating of her heart soothing his lips as he breathed in the unique floral scent of her perfume. She rested her cheek against the side of his head pressing a kiss to the top of his ear. Sleep be damned, she’d stay up with him all night. It wouldn’t be the first time and was absolutely not going to be the last.

After a few minutes adrift in the solitude of intimacy, he unwrapped her, his hands reclaiming their spot at her hips. He placed a kiss over her heart, his mouth moving downward scattering kisses against the inside curve of each breast. The airy mewl that escaped her lips made him smile, delighting that he could pamper and explore her body every time they were together knowing it drove her crazy while sending him to the moon.

Her fingernails dug into his shoulder blades the moment his lips wrapped around a taut nipple, his left hand sliding up to her ribcage so his thumb could gently sweep across the neglected bud on the other side. Slowly he switched sides, his right hand mimicking as the left splayed across her back holding her in place, though he knew she wasn’t going anywhere any time soon.

The fire burning low in her stomach was settling into a boil, Sydney more than happy to let it build. During this first year of marriage, she’d learned to be patient with her passion. She had to give most of the credit to her teacher, however, as it seemed Vaughn delighted in relearning every single curve she possessed each time they were together. At first, they’d focused too much on the bottom line - sprinting to the finish. 

To be fair, with Kendall calling almost every available moment, rushing had become the norm. The day they got home from a trip and turned their phones off for nearly 36 hours changed their lives. Surprise, surprise, the world didn’t end despite the fact that the office couldn’t get ahold of them. It was a valuable lesson, one they continued to exercise every opportunity.

Michael had taught her to enjoy the journey as much as the destination more than any previous lover, and she’d been a quick student. His mouth left her breasts and moved north, arms wrapping back around as he stood and turned with her still clinging to his torso. Leaning forward he reverently laid her atop the blankets, her legs and arms letting go as he rose to look at the already sated woman in the moonlight shining through the cracked window blinds.

Though her eyes were closed he knew that behind the lids were purple-hued hazel iris’. Sweeping down he spotted the extra pout to her parted lips as she bit softly at the left side of the lower, and down further still he took in her nearly nude form, the cotton panties the only remaining clothing. Stripping quietly he stood back up feeling his knees bump the soft hanging blanket on the bed. He gently traced a finger from the dimple between her collarbones down between her breasts and down further still to swirl around her navel and make her abs twitch, the finger finally reaching its destination at the hem of cotton.

Leaning down he pressed a wet kiss to the left of her bellybutton, Sydney keeping her eyes closed at the sensation, though she weaved the fingers of one hand into his hair. His mouth followed his fingertip as it hooked inside the hem and slid across her waist from left to right, tongue dipping into the button before continuing across. She felt the underwear slide down her legs, his kisses following to her right knee before he stepped away, the garment joining the others on the floor to be picked up in the morning.

Trailing a line of heat from her knee back toward her hip he knelt on the floor beside the bed looping her leg over his shoulder and pressing a wet kiss to the inside of her thigh. Her moan was more an echo bouncing off the ceiling, the sound blocked a bit by his angle, but he smiled nonetheless at the higher pitch. His right hand moved down and rubbed tickling lines on the calf of her other leg, his mouth closing in on his target. 

The second his warmth enveloped her throbbing mound, she had a mini orgasm, one fist clutching his hair as the other the bedsheet. She felt his chuckle as his tongue swirled around the now oversensitive button, her knees and thighs trembling a bit, and she cursed.

“Damn it, Michael.” 

He knew it drove her crazy, in a good way, that he kept count each time she came when they had sex. His goal was to get her off as many times as he could before it became too much and he gave himself up to her willing body.

“One,” he murmured against her core, his mouth going back to exploring her folds, though by now he considered himself an expert.

“It was a tiny one,” she panted, trying to justify that perhaps it shouldn’t count, though she loved the games they played in the bedroom. Far be it from her to complain that she’d outscored him every single time, sometimes by three and at most four, though that was a rarer circumstance.

“Still counts, Syd.” She could hear the joy in his voice and countered with a sigh.

“What’s your goal for tonight?” Her query was accompanied by a groan as he placed a sucking kiss to her clit.

He thought for a second redirecting a love bite to her inside thigh, “I’m thinking fifty.” Sydney’s sultry laugh made his heart bounce as well as his cock.

“I’ll die. I mean...I,” she panted, “I’ll die happy, but I think it’ll still kill me.”

“All right then. How about three?”

She finally opened her eyes and lifted her head to look down at his cocky grin from between her legs. “If you can,” she challenged before her head flopped back against the pillow of her hair. Three wouldn’t be hard, especially with their warm-up, she just liked teasing him.

Vaughn’s mouth drove her nearly to the brink again, stopping just short of the cliff. He laughed at her growl as he removed her leg from his shoulder and stood, his hands moving to her hips and pushing to her away from the edge before climbing up and settling between her legs. Leaning his weight on his left elbow, his right hand moved back to the junction of her thighs to rub a soft swirling pattern over her sensitive button. 

“Two,” he leaned in with a whisper, lips tickling the edge of her ear.

She shook her head, “you’re early,” she argued, though she could feel the flames licking up from her stomach into her chest. He scoffed and leaned down to nibble the sensitive spot just below her ear.

“How dare you...I’ve never been early my entire life,” he mock scolded which pulled another feathery laugh from her chest.

His thumb stayed making soft flicks against her clit as he directed the blunt end of his hardness to her opening. Pressing inside merely an inch he stilled until he heard her moan go up in pitch, felt her toes curl against his calves and her fingernails dig into his biceps, thrusting with his hips to the hilt as she shuddered around him. He groaned into strands of her chocolate hair as his hand slid up to her waist pulling her body flush to his. He fought the urge to come immediately as she pulsed around him, her moans and gasps slowing, though still mingled with his own.

They stayed still and connected for several moments, her heartbeat slowing to match his as he pushed up a bit to press his forehead against hers. “God, Michael,” she panted, “we’re gonna have so many kids.”

Vaughn laughed and pulled back to look at her half-lidded sparkling eyes. “Not for a week, at least,” he grinned and his hand moved up to cup her cheek, thumb doing the usual brush over the cheekbone. “You are so beautiful.”

“There’s no way you can see me in this light.”

Michael shrugged, “doesn’t make it any less true. And,” he paused with a slow thrust out then back into her warmth, “I’m not gonna stop saying it.”

Her dimples appeared as she cupped the back of his neck pulling his mouth to hers, tongue teasing at his lips before he joined the duel. He moved his body slowly as they both relished in the enjoyment of being together, his right hand exploring her body top to as much bottom as he could reach, Sydney kissing and biting his neck and shoulder, dragging her fingernails in lines down his back, chest, and stomach.

He was enjoying it too much: the sights, the feel, the sounds of their lovemaking, a single whining mewl pulling him back to the present. “Shit,” he growled, “I picked the wrong number. I should’a said four.” She nodded in agreement as a smile broke out across her parted lips.

He shook his head realigning his body to directly above as her hands grasped at his back, his palms planting flat against the bed to the right and left of her ribcage as he sped up. He heard it in her voice and felt it against his hardness, he knew she was close. Closer than him, and there wasn’t anything he could do about it.

Vaughn smiled and watched her eyes squeeze shut and her body tense as the first crest of orgasm hit her, the sweet moan loud in his ear as he joined at the sudden squeezing of her inner muscles. He slowed his thrusts to let her come down but kept his position above her as her legs had looped and ankles locked around his backside, her fingernails slowly loosening their grip digging into his shoulder blades.

“I don’t want you to,” pant, “take this as a challenge or anything, but,” pant, “you can’t keep this up all night. You’re not going to break your record.”

It was Vaughn’s turn to be cynical as he called her bluff with a panting harsh whisper, “what makes you say that?”

“Because just like you know every time I’m about to come, I know when you’re close. And,” pant, “you’re close.”

Damn it, she was right. He was close. He saw the satisfied smile on her face as she closed her eyes and flopped her head back to the mattress. “I’ll break it one of these days, Sydney,” he swore, her low wonton laugh making him twitch inside her.

His mouth crashed over hers, his first thrust not gentle in contrast to everything else that evening. Sydney didn’t care - she’d hit cloud nine a while ago, content to cling to him for the duration of the ride as wave after wave of pleasure built up in her stomach for number four. She took a small amount of pride in knowing he’d guessed the wrong number. It was a meaningless bet if it could even be called such as nothing had actually been bargained, but she was counting herself as the victor - in more ways than one.

Sydney felt the muscles of his back tense and his moans go gravelly and low. His body tipped forward for him to bury his face into the crook of her neck and shoulder, his hands going from propping himself up to clutching her waist, his release pending. His now tipped position always caused the base of his shaft to grind into her overworked clit releasing the tide behind her last orgasm. 

Their shared cries filled the room as he spilled into her body holding her tight and close. Several minutes ticked by until their muscles relaxed in and around each other, her legs unhooking from his waist as his hands left her sides to push himself up.

Heavy-lidded, purple-laden eyes look up at him with love, Michael heaving a sigh and wiping at his sweaty upper lip. “You win,” pant, “I guessed wrong.”

“I always win,” she laughed as he pulled back and stepped off the bed, reaching out a hand and helping her up. They shared a soft kiss going two different directions, Sydney into the bathroom and Michael staying to slide into his boxers and put the disarray of the bed into order.

Once back in bed they were like magnets, Sydney tucking into his arm and pressing light kisses to his shoulder.

"How are we gonna stay awake tomorrow?" 

"Who cares?" He chuckled pressing a kiss to her forehead as they drifted to sleep.

...


	11. Five More Days

**Chapter 11: Five More Days**

Vaughn stepped into the apartment as soft light from the kitchen illuminated half the living room. Rolling the carry-on to sit beside the couch he stretched and instantly regretted it as pain from the fistfight with the bouncer reminded him of the punches he’d taken to the ribs and stomach. Tiredness made his body feel heavy as his eyes searched the open area for his fiancee. She was nowhere to be seen, his gaze catching the time on the stove and realizing that the debrief had lasted a hell of a lot longer than he had realized, 2:47 shining in bright blue numbers. 

_ ‘She went to bed a while ago.’  _ Sighing, he proceeded to kick his shoes to the mat in the foyer, his tie hitting a barstool as he padded across the wood floor to the fridge. The bright light blinded him as he stared at the beer, but he decided that he was actually too tired to drink one. Closing it quietly he headed toward the bedroom.

Soft light shone into the hallway, Michael walking through the door and seeing the lamp across the room from the comfortable bed on the lowest setting. Sydney was a lump under the blanket lying on his side, a fan of chestnut hair over his pillow all he could discern.

He smiled and shed his jacket onto the chair near the closet. Moving to the edge of the bed, he leaned over and gently ran his fingers through her hair while pressing a soft kiss to her temple.

She sighed a bit and curled deeper into his pillow under the blankets, Vaughn deciding to follow her lead. Unbuttoning the long-sleeved shirt and tossing it to join the jacket, his trousers kicked down his legs and socks toed off, he moved over to her unused side of the bed. Undoing his watch and setting it next to the alarm clock, making sure it wasn't set to wake them up any time soon, he pulled the blanket back just enough to slip under.

His hands sought her out beneath the warm comforter and came into contact with the soft skin of his very naked wife-to-be. He groaned into her hair and buried his face into the nape of her neck, Sydney taking a deep waking breath as he spooned into her. She squeezed the arm that was now wrapped around her middle and nuzzled her head back against his as she pushed the sleep away.

"You're home late," she whispered, feeling his lips suck a kiss to her neck under her ear.

"I hate coming to bed overdressed," he mumbled quietly hearing her sleepy chuckle. He wasn’t sure how she knew each time his missions went awry, but when he was dog tired, sore, and jetlagged, he would often find her nude beneath the covers waiting for him when he finally managed to make it home.

His mouth continued exploring her neck and shoulder as he slid his left arm under her head, her own left hand finding his and winding their fingers together. His right hand splayed under her breasts across her stomach and she could feel his growing arousal against her backside as he pulled her flush against his body.

“If you’d been home earlier there were candles and lingerie, but I got tired and uncomfortable and didn’t want to burn the place down.” He chuckled deep and gravelly, the vibration against her skin shooting straight to her heat as the flames she'd tamped out earlier were rekindled.

Reaching back with her right hand she tugged at his neck while tilting her head, their mouths connecting gently. His tongue flicked against her lower lip asking for entry, Sydney sighing as his kisses deepened until she broke away to catch her breath. 

His lips brushed her ear as he turned on his sex voice, “I missed you.”

She groaned in response, her hips pushing back against his thighs as his left hand untangled from hers to bend at the elbow and bring it down to cup her breast, thumb brushing the sensitive nipple. Pushing up a bit on his arm, ignoring his aching side, he caught her lips again.

Vaughn's free hand ran up and down her body intent on reorienting himself with each toned muscle, hers reaching backward between them to cup his erection through the cotton of his boxers. His hands stilled a moment, the left squeezing her breast in his palm as he groaned into her mouth where his tongue has been dueling with hers. 

His left side was beginning to throb, the tight muscles and bruise across his ribs making his breath hitch. He reluctantly pulled back, seeing a frown flit across her face.

"Took a shot to the ribs. Nothing broken, but too sore to keep holding myself up right now." His hands fell away from her body as he scooted back to lean against the headboard.

"Poor baby," she said, sitting up and maneuvering to straddle his legs, her hands flat against his chest as she settled before dragging them down his stomach, his abs jumping beneath the soft cotton of his undershirt.

The low light bathed her body in a soft glow, Vaughn running his hands in swirling patterns over her hips and thighs as she perched above him, content to simply watch her with tired green eyes and a lazy smile.

She took the hem of his shirt into her hands and tugged, Michael putting a few inches between him and the headboard while raising his arms so she could lift the cotton tee over his head. Tossing it behind her, her eyes fell to the purpling wide bruise across his side, her right hand delicately running her fingers across the injury.

"Yikes."

"Yeah. Not my best moment," he laughed, following it with a regretful groan.

"You sure they're not broken? Do you need anything?"

He reached one hand under her hair to cup the side of her neck, thumb rubbing the edge of her jaw under her ear, "I may need some T.L.C.," he grinned before pulling her in and molding their mouths together.

Sydney groaned into his mouth as their tongues dueled, her hands pressing flat against his chest. His ran down the length of her body ending at her backside and squeezing the soft flesh in his palms.

Her hands moved down his stomach tracing his abs until reaching the tented fabric of the boxers. Hooking the hem, she pulled them down his hips and off his legs before sitting back over his thighs.

His eyes closed tightly as her fingers wrapped around his hardness, hand slowly pumping.

"T.L.C., huh?"

He groaned low as she leaned down to pepper kisses across his chest and up to his throat, her left hand continuing the slow rhythmic strokes.

She stayed perched on his thighs as her thumb brushed the wet tip of his hardness with each upstroke. Michael shifted one hand from her hip to run the length of her side upward and tangle in her hair dragging her lips to his for a breathless kiss.

The pad of his pointer finger traced a line from her waist to her center, the first sweep over her clit making her jump as he swallowed a high pitched mewl against his lips.

"Don't," she grumbled with a dimpled smile, pulling her hips up away from his hand.

Vaughn chuckled, "that close already, huh?"

"Shut up," she growled playfully, giving him a squeeze and making his body stiffen. 

Raising herself up on strong runner's legs, she positioned him at her entrance then set her hands on his shoulders, his splaying across her back as she lowered herself until he was buried to the hilt in her warmth.

His entrance triggered her first orgasm, her back arching and her thighs squeezing his hips as she groaned into his neck. He pressed kisses to her collarbone, Sydney releasing a shuddering breath against his ear. "I missed you too."

She rode him slowly, the pace sensual, and his hands traced soft swirls up and down her body as her nipples rubbed against his chest. His mouth trailed a line of wet kisses between her left and right breast, Sydney arching her back as he took a taut nipple into his mouth and massaged it with his tongue. Tracing patterns from her shoulders down the lengths of her arms, their hands twined together as his finger traced the hard metal edge of her engagement ring.

Releasing the bud from his lips he let his head fall back against the wood and smiled up at her, “five more days.”

Sydney beamed and folded her fingers through his. "Five more days," she repeated, her runners legs flexing and moving her up and down as she worked above him.

His head flopped back against the headboard as his eyes closed, their hands breaking apart as his went to her hips and squeezed to push and pull her slowly over his shaft. His eyes being closed made every motion, tug, caress, and warm thrust feel that much better, and while he loved the feeling of her above him and knew that with her physique she could stay on top and in control for a while, he felt fatigue digging at him from his bones. As good as her velvet channel was, he was nearing 30 hours without sleep and his body was threatening him with a warning shot.

Opening his eyes he saw that she'd closed hers as well, her pouted lips parted and cheeks flushed. They opened when his low gravelly voice broke her concentration.

"I love when you're on top and I love when we go slow, but after 28 hours my body is literally giving up on me." She gave in with a smile and fell to her back as he rose to his knees with a grimace. She propped herself on her elbows and met his lips as he tipped forward to kneel between her open legs.

Bending over was too painful so he sat back up, his right hand clutching his ribs as a curse fell from his lips.

"Stay up," Sydney ordered, turning over to get on her hands and knees.

Vaughn groaned deep in his chest as she backed toward him, the sight of her muscled backside making his hardness bounce in anticipation. Aligning himself with her opening he pulled her back with her hips and resheathed himself, their shared groans intoning high and low and echoing down the hallway through the open bedroom door.

On all fours, she rocked back to meet his thrusts as their bodies moved in tandem picking up the tempo. His thighs slapped against her rear as his fingers squeezed her hips, and they both knew she would have finger-shaped bruises the next morning. Neither cared.

Sweat beaded on his forehead and he rumbled low in his chest as the churning began to boil in his lower stomach. This angle slid the bulbous tip over her g-spot, Sydney pushing her face into the soft mattress and bunching the sheet in her fists. Her moans were muted by the cushion, but he could still hear the higher pitch and knew she was just as close as he was.

The fluttering of her inner muscles triggered his orgasm as he pulled her in and sunk as deep as he could go. That sent her off the cliff and her body stiffened, calves squeezing against his in her ecstasy. He continued with short half-thrusts until he was spent, and it immediately felt like lead weights had been strapped to his arms and around his neck. Pulling from her warmth he tipped to the side and ended up with his head at the foot of the bed as he panted up at the ceiling while flat on his back.

Sydney stretched her legs out to lie on her stomach as her contracting muscles loosened, the air-conditioned breeze in the apartment welcoming on her heated skin. A soft snore from her left made her look to her soon-to-be husband, Vaughn out cold with one leg hanging off the bed and the other with his foot propped on his pillow. She pressed a kiss to his forehead on the way to the bathroom, coming back out a moment later to find him unmoved and snoring blissfully into the night.

“Vaughn, c’mon,” she urged, her hands cupping his cheeks as she leaned over him. “Wake up just a little.”

His eyes split a few millimeters, Sydney blurry in his sleep-deprived, unfocused gaze. He mumbled something incoherent, but she managed to get him sitting without hurting his ribs too badly. Tipping him the opposite way, he was back to sleep the moment his blonde head hit the pillow. The blanket was pulled up to his waist, a lock of hair brushed away from his forehead, and a soft kiss placed against his temple before she moved back to her original side of the bed.

No matter how deep the sleep he always seemed to know when she was there, and after she climbed in beside him, his arm automatically wrapped around her waist to pull her close.

“Five more days,” she whispered, drifting away with her nose tucked into his throat.

**...**

  
  



	12. The Punished

A/N: So...this got MUCH spicier than I imagined when I had started with the idea. I tried to keep them as much in character as I could, but the premise of this chapter is a bit OOC for Sydney. Still - I may have taken too much enjoyment out of writing this chapter, it was a new kind of sexy stuff I wanted to explore. Sorry for the break from Happy New Year, but when an idea shows up and just won’t go away...you run with it until it’s done.

This was inspired and I'm dedicating this chapter to my hussies...so buckle up! This is a long one filled with a LOT of sex! It’s going back to Chapter 1 with Sydney and Vaughn working out their anger on each other.

Trigger warning (if it applies): contains masturbation and edging.

**Chapter 12: The Punished**

Reckless.

Irresponsible.

A danger to herself and others.

Unbelievable.

The eleven-hour flight back to Los Angeles had given her plenty of time to think about what she’d done, and she knew an angry mob back at the office was waiting with torches and pitchforks. Sydney contemplated not coming back for a few days and no-showing her flight, but that would just delay the inevitable.

In their short conversation over comms, once she’d gotten to safety, Kendall had growled, “twenty minutes after you land, you had  _ better _ be standing in front of me.”

Like a child in school being sent to the principal’s office, Sydney walked the hallways of the JTF slowly trying to postpone the tongue-lashing she knew was coming.

_ ‘You need to get yourself straight. Don’t go in there angry, it won’t work out.’ _

Deep down, she knew her inner voice was right, but she  _ was  _ angry, and she should probably get that in check before meeting with her boss. Five minutes after entering the office she stormed out minus her C.I.A.-issued identification, heading down to the armory to turn in her handgun. Two weeks of suspension, and she was pissed. Employees between her and her destination moved to either side as she furiously hurtled down the hallways, oblivious to the wake left behind her.

Vaughn was waiting just inside the parking garage, the wrinkles on his forehead standing at almost as much attention as the vein on hers. Her blood was still boiling, but despite everything, she was glad to see him.

He was pacing in front of the car, the click of her heels on the cement in the parking garage pulling his attention. As she opened her mouth to speak, he surprised her into silence as he held up his hand to stop her, a Hulk-like green fire burning behind his hooded glare.

“Get in the car.” His voice was a snarl, and Sydney was shocked that he was taking that tone with her. 

Sydney knew he was angry. His voice over the phone before she’d left London was clipped, and when the words  _ ‘get home, we’ll deal with it later’ _ hit her ear followed by a click _ , _ with no I love you or even a goodbye before hanging up, she knew he would be looking to take out his anger on her. Since figuring it out, equal amounts of nervous and sexual energy coursed through her veins at the knowledge that Vaughn was mad at her, though this might be the instance where she’d find herself sleeping on the proverbial couch.

The beginning of the drive was silent, though she could feel a hot aura coming off of him. Chancing a glance, she noticed that he’d removed his coat and tie, the Oxford slightly open at his neck. His nostrils flared with each breath and she could see the muscle in his jaw tensing as he ground his teeth.

Stopping at a red light, his hand roughly slammed into the steering wheel making her jump. “God  **damn it** , Sydney!”

The emotion she was desperately trying to repress came roaring back as she whipped around to face him, “you of  **all** people shouldn’t have asked me to walk away from him, Vaughn. Sloane was  **_right there_ ** !”

He threw one hand in the air, the seat belt digging into his chest. “Oh, don't  _ even  _ go there with me. Not with me! How many times have I let intel go, or - or bailed on missions to keep you safe?"

"I never asked you to do that!" Firing back, she saw that her response surprised him, but not in a good way.

A horn from behind reminded them that they were driving, Michael's foot slamming on the gas and lurching the sedan forward as the two sat in silence save for their heavy breathing. She was surprised there was anyone behind them this early in the morning, the clock on the dash reading 2:30 in light green letters. In reality, that person had kept them from arguing with one another for who knows how many of those light cycles.

"You're really mad at me for going after Sloane? Vaughn, he's the  **one piece** left for me to finish the puzzle!"

She jumped when he hit the steering wheel again. "No! That's not...you just...you never,  **ever** think past that!"

"How do you expect me to get over  _ everything _ he's done?" She was twisted in the seat attempting to face him, mostly because she could as she wasn't required to keep her eyes on the road.

Unfortunately for her, another light ahead turned red allowing him to pierce her with his stormy green glare once the car was stopped. His words were punctuated and he let each one land before moving to the next.

"You...could...have... **died** ! Why don't you  **care** about that?"

She scoffed. "It wasn't that bad! It  **never** is."

The light turned green and the conversation was cut once more. The pressure was building, and Sydney was both nervous and intrigued at how it was going to blow. She wondered if he had been thinking about the same thing over the last few hours; if he’d been letting his frustration and anger build while she was slowly making her way home.

At the moment, he seemed more than furious, and she wasn’t sure that tonight would end panting and covered in sweat among his sheets like their other fights. 

“I’m sorry,” she grumbled half-heartedly, assuming it was what he wanted to hear her say.

The light ahead of them turned yellow, and she could tell that he likely would have run it if not for her utterance. Instead, his foot hit the brakes just hard enough to throw them into the locked belts, but not enough to squeal the tires. He turned and leaned toward her, his finger pointing as he planned to tell her exactly what was on his angry mind.

She returned the glare, Michael stopping mid-thought as he spotted the purple in her eyes. He snaked a hand behind her head and fisted a handful of her hair, yanking her over the console to slam their mouths together. His tongue roughly pushed its way through her parted lips to duel with hers as the stubble of his five-o’clock shadow chaffed her chin and lips.

His onslaught was over quickly, the light ahead going from green to yellow, and he gunned it from idle to get across the intersection as the crimson beacon passed overhead. Sydney leaned away from him in her seat with her elbow on the windowsill, the back of her hand against her hot lips. Vaughn was similar on his side, one arm stretching out as he white-knuckled the steering wheel and propped his head on his fist adjacent to the window.

The rest of the drive went by in silence, and blessedly, no more lights hampered their journey. He parked the car and sat for a moment, Sydney still trying to take her emotions down a notch. Michael got out while she still sat in thought, circling around the car to open her door with an impatient sigh. Rolling her eyes at the aggressive, feigned chivalry, she lifted her purse and stepped out.

Vaughn’s fingers wrapped around her upper arm bringing her close and his lips brushed her ear, his voice the gravelly low rumble that he knew drove her crazy. “Do not think that I’m anywhere near letting this go.”

“I know I screwed up. You don’t have to lord it over me,” she glared and tried to pull her arm free, but he tightened his grip and she knew she would have finger-shaped bruises in a day or so. Probably not the only ones, if the smoky, dark, forest green of his eyes were any indication.

"You don't get to be angry about this, Sydney. We can talk it out after, we always do. For now? Get inside; I'll grab your bag."

The flames in her stomach cascaded to her center. "What if I want to talk about it now?" Her typically confident voice had a contradicting tremor on the back end that she couldn't control. 

" _ Get inside _ ," he growled, releasing her arm and giving her a small twist toward the entrance of the apartment building.

He stalked to the trunk as she made her way inside, her legs feeling a bit like jello as her stomach filled with hyper-active butterflies. The air of the apartment was cool on her heated cheeks as she tossed open the front door, leaving it unlatched behind her as she placed her purse on the kitchen table across from the foyer.

Leaning on her palms she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. He was  _ much _ angrier than he had been in the past, and she genuinely couldn’t predict the direction of the evening. That didn’t mean she wasn’t excited. She was the one in their relationship to be punished by far the most as she had a penchant for throwing caution to the wind and diving into the deep end on missions. This, however, felt different - was different.

Vaughn pushed through the doorway and set the bag aside. Locking the door behind him, he stepped farther into the room shoving his hands into his pockets as he stared down his fiancee. 

“I want you to promise me something.”

She stood tall, finally looking over at him. His shoulders were tense, as was his jaw, despite the fact that his stance was casual. The worry wrinkles on his forehead were still there, though not as deep as when she’d first seen him in the parking garage. Rolling her shoulders and feeling the bite of the sore spots, she tried to relax but wasn’t feeling relaxed.

“Okay,” she agreed hesitantly.

He took a step toward her, his eyes darkening. “You do everything I tell you to do, with no argument.”

“Vaughn,” she grumbled, and he tilted his head with a glare squinting his eyes at her instant refusal of his request.

“You spent six and a half minutes not listening on your mission, and it almost got you killed. It’s time for you to listen.”

She nodded, beginning to let down her guard. Why it was still up she wasn’t sure, but it hadn’t really come down since she’d left London. It felt strange for her to be guarded around him.

“Okay,” she agreed.

“Whatever I say goes.”

She twisted her engagement ring nervously on her finger, a habit she’d re-developed since he’d surprised her with it a month ago. Desire pooled low in her stomach as he exuded a fiercely calm yet furious energy.

“What if that’s not what I want?” This would likely be her last challenge, she assumed, Sydney seeking one more instance of control from a day filled with a horrible lack of control.

His hunter green eyes flashed as he took a few steps forward, and she held her ground until he was a mere breath away. His hands remained in his pockets despite the fact that she wanted him to lay them on her, and as he leaned forward he spoke in a deadly serious voice, “then your eyes wouldn’t be purple and your breath wouldn’t hitch in the back of your throat when I’m this close.”

_ ‘Touche,’ _ she thought and knew he was right, though she wasn’t going to say it out loud.

He pointed with a nod of his head toward the bedroom ordering her without words, and she turned to obey. As she walked, she thought about all of the times he’d demanded submission from her in the bedroom, this seeming to go a bit farther than he’d ever gone before. This didn’t dampen her excitement, the unknown making her blood pulse through her veins.

She flipped on the light in the bedroom and walked in, thinking of the doorway as a portal leaving everything beyond this room far away. The only ones here were them, and if he wanted to punish her, she’d more than earned whatever he had planned. Which he for sure had plans. The flight was long enough for him to set up whatever he wanted, and her stomach bubbled and flipped at the thought. 

Everything about the bedroom looked normal, however. No whips or chains had been laid out atop the dark blue comforter, not that he had those, their bed still made from when he’d left this morning. She felt and heard him come in behind her, and he closed the portal door keeping everything and everyone out, reserving this space for them. His hands were back in his pockets and he regarded her with a piercing stare.

“Unbutton my shirt.”

Her nod was stilted, but she stepped forward and brought her hands up, her palms resting flat against the warmth of his chest. He slapped her hands away, strong enough to feel a little sting behind her fingers. “Buttons,” he growled.

He heard the tiny annoyed sigh that left her lips and knew she would give  _ some _ kind of push back when she realized how submissive he was demanding she be, submission  **not** a Sydney Bristow trait. If there was one thing they’d spent time learning together, however, vulnerability with one another was solace, not a burden. So he was asking her to submit to the solace that he wanted for them both, and he hoped that she would accept.

“Do you have a punishment planned if I don’t do what you say?”

He nodded.

“Are you not going to tell me what that is?”

“Buttons,” he repeated, slipping his hands back into his pockets.

She suddenly felt that they each wore far too many clothes. She alone was wearing a business-style button-up like his and a bra, her lower half covered in a sleek pair of dress pants with thigh-high hose underneath. If he was going to demand the removal of one article at a time, she may burn to death with the heat radiating from her center before anything actually happened.

One by one, she popped the silver, plastic buttons from the holes and opened the front of his shirt. It was still tucked in his trousers, so it hung open revealing the white cotton tee beneath. The last of the clasps were hidden behind the belt and band, but she hadn’t been asked to undo those yet and her hands returned to her sides waiting for his next command.

A small smile played at his mouth as he saw her accept her place for the night, though the purse of her lips gave away that she was vexed. He also caught that the purple usually seeping in a hint around her iris had turned her brown eyes into a hued hazel, encroaching farther than he’d seen before.

“Belt,” he said, low in his throat.

She stepped a bit closer, her fingers manipulating the warm leather, and he couldn’t stop himself from leaning in to place a single soft kiss against the side of her neck. It was so light that she almost didn't feel it, but that gentle gesture made a hum escape the back of her throat as her fingers stilled when undoing the metal toothed clasp.

“Belt,” he ordered, his demand a cool breath against her hot skin, and she kicked back into gear to finish.

“Zipper, I assume?” Her breathless whisper wasn’t devoid of sarcasm. 

In response, his hands reached up and cupped her cheeks before leaning in and brushing his lips against hers in a kiss almost as soft as the one he’d placed on her neck. The ghost kiss made her want more, so she stepped into him trying to deepen the touch, but his hands dropped away and he stepped back quickly, Sydney feeling for a moment like she was falling forward.

“Zipper.”

She took a few breaths trying to lower her rapid heartbeat, her eyes reopening. Closing the distance once again, he held back his reaction as her fingers brushed the bulge he wasn’t trying to hide. He felt every tooth of the zipper as she slowly lowered it, and though he wanted her to increase the pressure, the moment it was done he was glad she’d put down her hand.

“Take them off the rest of the way,” he said, and she could hear the tightness in his voice and knew that this was almost as much torture for him as it was for her. A certain respite was found in that fact.

_ ‘No more fighting it. Just let go.’ _

She undid the button, the belt jingling as the waistband fell from his hips, and with a small push, the trousers landed atop his feet. He stepped out and kicked them aside, the shoes left in the living room.

"Shirt."

Lightly gripping the sides of the button up, she slid the left off his shoulder before the right, and he stood before her in tented boxers and a white undershirt. 

"Keep going," he said, his hands hanging low at his sides.

Fingering the hem of the tee, the fabric soft in her hands, she lifted as he rose his arms, the removal leaving his already bed-head hair further tousled. She wanted to run her fingers down his defined chest to trace his twitching abs, but instead let them fall down to wait for his word asking her to do such.

He could see the war in her eyes; the want to let him lead and for her to follow in a fight with throwing it all to the side to ravish one another. He also saw that she desperately wanted his forgiveness and a chance to make up for what she’d done, and that meant that the follow side was winning the battle.

“All the way,” he said softly but gruffly, his erection bouncing against his stomach as the waistband of the boxers lowered, freeing it from the cloth prison. 

Michael surprised her by moving away and sitting on the edge of the bed, reaching down and removing his socks one by one before scooting back above the covers to rest against the backboard. Grabbing her pillow, he wedged it behind his back as he got settled. Her mouth went dry as his hand circled his cock, fingers wrapping around the shaft and moving slowly up and down.

“Shirt buttons,” he snapped her attention back from his groin to his eyes. “Shirt...buttons.”

Her gaze lowered, transfixed as he lay nude on the bed pleasuring himself, and her hands moved of their own mind to quickly do what he asked when he stopped her.

“Slow. Do it...slow.” 

So she did. One piece of plastic at a time, she found herself releasing a button for each pump of his hand, a couple of seconds passing with each up and down as he was content to prolong every part of tonight and leave her to teeter on the ledge. Below her would be the black swirling vortex of passion and sexuality, but she wouldn’t be able to fall without his push, or tonight: his word.

Fingers undid the last button she could access, the other two or three behind the band of her dress pants. The opening let a sliver of light in against her creamy skin, and in reaction, he reached his right hand down to cup and squeeze his sac. 

A low hum came from his throat and he turned it into another order, “pull it out and finish.”

With the last buttons undone, she began to slip it down her shoulders, but he stopped her with a sharp shake of his head. “I didn’t tell you to take it off. Leave it on, open just down the middle.”

Pulling it back over her shoulders, she made sure the opening was a mere slit down the middle and let her arms fall down to await further instruction.

“Pants.”

The clasp loose, the zipper pulled, she shimmied them down her legs and stepped out, Michael’s hand squeezing his hardness at seeing the lace panties hugging her hips and the thigh-high hose a see-through black against her toned legs. What hint of bra he could see peeking through the shirt seemed to match the black lace hiding her center from his eyes, and he could tell that they were a matching set.

“Take the shirt off,” he commanded, her hands moving to follow. 

The polyester slid down her back with a whisper, and she felt it land against her heels. Standing before him in a bra, panties, and hose with hazel purple-hued fire in her eyes, she made a vision. He could see her breasts rising quickly against the confining fabric, the soft creamy roundness disappearing behind the lace and the forward-facing clasps. Sitting up, he slid to the edge of the bed.

“Come here, but...no touching.”

Despite some confusion about his command, she stepped forward until she was standing just outside of his open knees. He pointed to the floor between his legs, the high bed putting his thighs at the level of the lower part of her hips, and she took the last step forward. His hands moved up to run tickling lines down her sides sparking a shiver to jolt from her stomach to her brain and then back down to her sex. His mouth was like a light breeze traveling from her collarbone to the rise of her breasts, tiny kisses that barely pressed into her skin leaving her wanting more. 

Her hands, not her, broke the rule. The skin over his tight biceps was warm against her palms, but the stinging love bite he suctioned against the swell of the right mound made her hands fly away, hovering clenched at just above him.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered and felt his lips softly kiss the bite in response as everything went back to gentle and slow, like the soft waters of a wide river just after the rapids.

“Step back,” he whispered, hot breath fanning her sweaty skin. She did. He stood but kept his right arm around her, his palm flat against the small of her back as the other hand cupped her chin between his thumb and pointer finger, holding her in place against his body for his mouth to sweetly claim hers.

It was so hard not to touch him, but she managed to keep her arms at her sides despite having his body pressed so close, the stiffness of him against her stomach, and the velvet of his mouth against hers. His tongue flicked against her pouted lower lip as he pulled away, nodding with his head toward the bed.

“Lay down.” His voice was pure sex, the gravelly tone resonating low in her stomach. She moved to the bed, sat at the edge, and then lowered herself backward. “Farther; against the pillows.” She scooted back as he asked.

Vaughn surprised her by joining her on the bed, crawling and sitting high on his knees between her open legs and propping himself up with his hands on either side of her trim waist. He leaned in to brush a ghost of a kiss to her lips once more before sliding down and tracing the column of her throat. The fluttering pulse at the meeting of her collarbones coupled with the shallow panting breaths he could hear due to his ear’s proximity put a small upward tilt to his lips.

Snapping his fingers against the clasp at the front of her bra, her breasts were set free, Michael pulling the fabric from behind her back and tossing it off the edge of the bed. Continuing his trek south, he delicately swirled his tongue around but avoided the hardened buds of her nipples on both sides, Sydney fisting the covers to her right and left to keep from diving her hands into the hair at the nape of his neck and increase the pressure.

Truthfully, he missed when her nails scratched his skin or when her hands clutched at him as he found all of the spots on her body that made her shiver beneath him, but he was determined to see this night through. That’s why he’d gotten off three times already while waiting for her to get home - to guarantee that he could last as long as he needed when she was finally in front of him. 

Looking up at her face, her cheeks flushed and deepening the light blush of her makeup, her lips pouted, parted, and full, her eyes closed as she took in the sensation of his breathy touches against her stimulated body, he took it all in. Rising, he hooked his pointer fingers into both sides of her panties and pulled them down her hips to mid-thigh just above the top of the hose. Her eyes opened and watched as he backed off of the bed to stand at the end, the underwear going with him before abandoned along with the rest of their clothes.

In the low light of the bedroom he could see the wetness of her center below the neatly trimmed patch of hair on her mound, the soft wet lips below bare from her attention. He re-wrapped his fist around his hardness, the thumb brushing and spreading the pearly pre-cum at the tip as he met her eyes, hers asking ‘ _ what next’ _ .

“I want to watch you.” 

The first non-order of the evening, though it was implied. 

_ ‘Thank god,’ _ she thought as her right hand traveled to her center to have her middle and ring finger dip into the wetness before swirling the electrified button with three quick circles.

“Slower,” he ordered, Sydney honestly thinking of ignoring his request at the gratifying sensation of finally getting some attention, even if it was her own. But she kept thinking back to his threat, another punishment he had for her not obeying, and slowed her fingers against the nubbin. Even with the reserved movements, she’d have no problem getting off quickly, the pot having been near to boiling in her stomach for quite some time. 

Her fingers expertly danced around and into the folds, occasionally dipping into the silky depts before coming out and shining with her juices as they returned to her clitoris, and her eyes fixated on the image he made at the end of the bed. He was all taut muscles and pleasure-filled testosterone. 

She felt the burning in her abdomen and knew she was close. Despite wanting to speed up, he’d asked her to take her time, so the focus at the moment was on the pace of his hand moving on his shaft. Which was excruciatingly slow. Still, she was nearing the peak, excited to let the build-up of tension go as her muscles began to tense.

He watched as she neared her orgasm, knowing the signs well by this point in their relationship. The muscles of her toned abdomen clenched, her toes began to curl, the humming moan behind her lips was higher pitched, and her brow began to scrunch above her tightly-closed eyes.

“Stop.”

Those eyes flew open and, though her hand went to a near snail’s pace, her fingers still moved at her center. He moved to kneel between her legs as his fingers wrapped around her wrist, pulling her hand up.

“Stop,” he repeated, smiling at the fiery indignation written on every feature of her beautiful face. He released her hand, fully expecting to grab it again as she refused to obey. Secretly, he wanted her to defy him at this moment, the handcuffs in the closet box high on the shelf hadn't gotten much use in the last month. His disappointment was marginal as she balled it into a fist and lightly smacked it to the top of the bed, but she didn’t complain.

“May I ask why?” 

Michael leaned over her body to rest on his palms to the right and left of her ribcage. Purposefully, he slid the engorged tip of his arousal against her center, bypassing her opening, before letting the shaft nestle against her folds. Bending down his lips caressed hers in another gentle, breathless kiss before he peppered pecks against the corner of her mouth down to the line of her jaw and then to the column of her throat.

“You don’t get to come until I say.”

The proximity of her mouth to his ear guaranteed that he heard her frustrated grunting whine, so in response, he pulled back to rub himself against her once more, the friction not enough for her to get any closer to her restricted orgasm.

“I hate when you do this,” she grumbled. That was only half true. She  _ loved _ it when he did this, but hated the tortuous march toward the impending explosion. He’d only made her wait a couple of times in the past, and she assumed this time would be no different.

His voice was a low purr vibrating against her earlobe and throat, rumbling inside his chest that pressed, for the moment, against her breasts. “I’m going to drive you insane tonight, Sydney, and you won’t come until dawn hits that window.”

The bedside alarm clock was to her right while his head was to her left, and she couldn’t help but turn to look at the bright red numbers that read 3:45. “Th-that’s three hours from now,” she balked. His answer was another rubbing thrust that put a groan in her throat. “That’s not fair,” she mewled. 

“Trust that it is,” he growled, his lips and teeth sucking another vicious love bite to the crook of her neck just above her collar bone making her whimper.

“Can I at least touch you?” Her question was accompanied by a brush of her full lips against his neck as he leaned in to dot kisses along the line of her shoulder to her throat.

“No.” Gruff, and he honestly didn’t mean it to sound that forceful, was the way it had come out so he would follow through, his tongue flicking against the pulse point between her collarbones.

She sighed and he smiled, moving lower. Tonight, he was going to push her until she broke, something he’d never done before. Well, something  _ they’d _ never done before. She’d felt the pressure of him edging her before, but this was going to be a whole new experience for them both. While his grandiose plans had been swirling in his mind, he knew he would run into some hurdles. Could he go almost three hours torturing her into as many near climaxes as he could without coming himself? To be honest, it was only going to be nearly two hours, but her plane arrived early. Vaughn wasn’t sure if that would be the case, but he knew that he was going to try with every fiber of his being to punish her for that long. 

His mouth skimmed to her left breast, his back arching so he could keep his erection pressed parallel to her opening and maintain that delicious friction, the feeling of her soft warmth almost making him want to throw it all away and plunge inside.

Suctioning open-mouthed kisses to her flesh, he circled but avoided the hardened peak, his eyes catching her hands fist the blanket again, his body feeling her hips move just enough to rub her nether lips against his shaft. 

He abandoned the left side without once touching her nipple, ascending on the right in the same manner. Scraping his teeth lightly against the softness, he dragged his tongue in a circle around the outer edge of the darker skin before leaving that side bereft of any deeper action. 

Moving his hips back to readjust his position, his hardness slipped away from her core making them both groan at the loss of warmth and pressure. Glancing his lips down the valley between her breasts he burned a slow line of nips and licks to her navel, his tongue dipping in for a moment until he redirected to the left to bite at her hip.

His right hand ran a tickling path from the top of her knee down to the juncture of her thighs, purposefully stopping before touching her center, and moved to the underside to prop on his elbow and tickle the back of her leg above the hose with his fingertips.

Sydney’s breath was coming in hurried pants, her chest rising and falling as her muscles tensed. There was a chance that as soon as his mouth touched her core, she would come. They both knew that. So she put all of her eggs into that basket.

It was a risk he was almost willing to take, but as he angled his head to look up at her tense, pleasure-filled features, he knew it was what she was expecting, and that meant that plans warranted a change. Staying up on his knees he dipped his head back down to chart a line of suctioning kisses along the inside of her left thigh traveling toward where he knew she wanted his mouth most. Her body tensed and the coverlet bunched tightly between white-knuckled fingers at the feeling of his hot breath against her, and she held the air in her lungs in anticipation.

He blew a gentle breath of cool air against her sex and saw the opening contract as her inner muscles squeezed and released several times. A moment later he changed his direction, and a frustrated growl sat low in her throat as he purposefully moved north, his lips against the skin below her bellybutton. He chuckled, her reaction to let out an aggravated sigh, but she didn’t move or break the rules.

She could kill him with her pinky, and they both knew that fact. Her passion kept asking why she didn’t just kick his ass and leave him with blue balls before getting some much-needed satisfaction and sleep, but her heart reminded her that she deserved every moment of what he was doing. Her mind chimed in that as annoyed as she was, she was  _ really _ enjoying his attention, even if it was making her ache.

She jumped when his finger traced first the left and then right lip, a whimpering moan leaving her parted lips and she couldn’t control the muscles that thrust her hips upward. 

“Lie still,” his order was warm between her legs, and she opened her eyes to glare down at him, catching his smirk.

He teased the slit, pushing a finger inside to curl up and taunt her G-spot with a few brushes before pulling back and tracing along the moist outer edge of the labia. She hissed behind clenched teeth as his tongue joined the fray, though every piece of him avoided the bundle of nerves at the top. Right as she was about to curse him with every word in the book, the pointed tip of his tongue lightly flicked at the nub, and her thighs tensed threatening to close around him as every nerve throughout her body felt like they'd been electrified.

The propped right hand gripped her muscled leg holding it to the side, and his eyes watched with delight as her face contorted in bliss, her lips forming an elliptical ‘O’ at the sensations. Though it was agonizingly slow, his tongue alternating shape from the pointed tip to the flat top, he brushed it against the sensitive pearl every few seconds. One finger, and then a second, slid back and forth into her warmth at the near crawling pace at which his tongue lapped, but the rising tension in her stomach was the first hint of another cresting orgasm.

She wanted to, tried to, hide it, but he knew more than half a dozen signs before she came. If wasn’t the higher-pitched whine it was the full-body tense. If it wasn’t the pouted, o-shape to her lips, it was the clenching of her inner muscles, usually around his member but currently around his fingers. One last flick and he stopped.

The air she’d been holding in was released in one big gust and her muscles began to loosen. His eyes fixated on the rhythmic pulsing of her entrance as well as the extra juices that formed a drip at the very bottom of her opening. Looking up, he saw the red tint of her face and the twitching muscle in her jaw and knew that if it were any other time, she’d have knocked him cold and finished the job herself. He greatly appreciated her ability to take his punishments and letting him push farther than he had pushed in the past, and these were all things he would say afterward. He’d started tonight as a hard-ass, and as a hard-ass he would finish.

Standing, he held out his hand ignoring the frustrated confusion in her eyes as he gave another order posing as a request. "Why don't you go grab us a drink?” 

“Are you kidding me?”

His eyes darkened. “Something...strong.”

She scoffed and sat up to slide to the edge of the bed, her feet touching the floor as she set her hands flat to the right and left of her hips. Deciding that some hard liquor wasn’t a terrible idea, though it would arguably make her hornier, she couldn’t pass up something to take her mind off of the amount of desire that had built up inside both her brain and her lower stomach.

Taking his hand, relishing in the fact that she was finally touching some part of his skin, he helped her up with a little push toward the door.

"Make it rum," he hollered, hearing her indiscernible grumble from the hallway. He hurried to the closet and flipped on the light, his eyes spotting the box on the top shelf above his hanging suit jackets. He still wasn’t quite used to all of his clothes being on one side with all of hers being on the other, and the sight still made his heart flutter. The lid came off, the new device fitting in the palm of his hand. Testing it, the vibrating buzz against his fingertips made his cock bounce in excitement, and he moved back to the bedroom to set it on the nightstand in the circle of his watchband, sufficiently hidden in plain sight. 

“Your rum, sir?” The sarcasm was back, her voice at the doorway, and he turned to see her nude figure with two shot glasses in one hand and the bottle in another leaning seductively against the doorframe.

He crossed his arms over his chest, nodding for her to continue. “Go ahead.”

Crossing to the stand before him, a delightful sway to her hips making his lips rise at the edges, she poured the amber liquid into one and then the other, keeping the bottle fisted in her hand. He took one from her as she waited for permission, which he gave with a minuscule nod and an uptick of his brow. Sydney brought it to her lips and felt the burn of the liquor slide down her throat. She’d already had one in the kitchen when he’d sent her on her errand, but rum was his favorite, not hers. It always made gooseflesh break out on her arms and legs the moment it touched her tongue and it burned all the way to her stomach, hitting her harder than others she preferred. Every reaction was right on cue.

Michael watched her face contort with a grin, knowing how much she hated his shot of choice. Still, her grimace went away after a moment and she looked to him for more. He slowly sank to his knees and inched forward until her navel was above his nose, but he kept his distance with everything save for his mouth. Her legs automatically spread a little wider as his lower lip teased the back of her folds and his tongue brushed flat along her opening dragging up toward the swollen and neglected button. Her hands tightened around the neck of the bottle and the shot glass that fit perfectly in her palm as a shuddering exhale dragged from her throat.

The glass was cold on her stomach as he set it above his face, tipping it slowly to let the liquor run in rivulets down her skin to his waiting mouth. He caught the majority, some leaking down his cheeks to his jaw, and he closed with a swallow around her femininity, his tongue flicking against her clit as his lips suctioned her folds momentarily before releasing it all and pulling away. Her legs quaked and threatened to give out, and she hadn’t realized that she’d firmly closed her eyes until he tapped the mini cup against her abdomen, demanding a refill.

Less than stable, her hand managed to pour it to half full before returning to her side. Less liquid meant more shots, right? Yeah, it was greedy, but at this moment? She was greedy. She wanted - no -  _ needed  _ more.

What she  _ really _ wanted, perhaps needed, was for him to hold her up. Their position in the center of the bedroom meant there was nothing around to stabilize her if her legs decided to buckle. She didn’t have more time to think on it, however, as his tongue softly licked her womanhood from bottom to top, the tip taking a moment to swirl slowly around the sensitive bud before moving down to dip inside and then swoop again the full length before pouring the rum to run down her skin once more.

Mouth open and tongue dancing against her button, she felt her lower stomach begin to tense as her toes curled into the floor. The feeling of him catching the liquor along with the hot sensation of the high-proof alcohol against her most-sensitive area was speeding her toward another climax. Her brain broke in to remind her that he probably wasn’t going to let it happen any more than he had the previous two, and though Sydney had more hope than most, she did believe her mind over her heart on this matter.

On cue, his lips and tongue abandoned her center and canceled the crest of her orgasm, forcing it to settle back into the ocean of desire. Michael rose to watch her with deep green eyes as another trembling exhale fanned his chest, her teeth biting at her lower lip enough to sting as she scrunched her eyes closed. She took a stumbling step back to keep from tipping and his quick reaction to wrap an arm around her kept her from falling butt-first onto the hardwood floor at his feet. His hold was light, just enough to keep her steady, his other hand grabbing the bottle before it dropped.

“Back on the bed,” he whispered, dropping a kiss to the top of her shoulder and letting go.

“Can I ask you a question?” Sitting heavily on the edge as the mattress sank a bit beneath her, she looked up at him with a thirsty purple/brown stare.

“Sure.”

“How long can you keep this up?”

He nodded to the window in response. “Do you see the sun yet?”

Sydney groaned and let herself fall backward, her breasts bouncing as a sound of pure aggravation hit his ear. “And if I die?”

“Will you have learned your lesson?”

He didn’t expect her to sit up on her elbows and furrow her brow. “I’m sorry,” she said with genuine remorse in her voice.

Michael swallowed. “You’re breaking the rules,” he lightly chastised.

“Am I?”

He nodded. “We talk it out after.”

Her sultry laugh made his stomach jump. “After I die or after I pass out? You’ll eventually let me get off, and I’m fairly sure I won’t be very coherent afterward.”

His hands crossed back over his chest, though this time it wasn’t to look intimidating - this time it was to hold back emotion. He wanted to let her have it, having waited all night without actually saying why he was so upset because they were  _ supposed _ to get the negative emotion out during sex. He was  _ supposed _ to get the aggression out  _ with _ her during the throes of passion.

“Sydney,” he started and then paused, trying to find something that would tide her over until they could truly say what they felt. “When you take risks like today, it just...it makes me wonder if I’m the only one that wants some kind of life when all this spy crap is done.”

“Vaughn-”

“You have to admit that you end up on the receiving end of nights like this a  _ hell _ of a lot more often than me. Yeah,” he grinned, “I’m a Boy Scout and I live and breathe the rules, and I have a  _ hell  _ of a lot more to say, but that’s not what now is for. Don’t skip this part, Syd, it’s one of the better ways we function with one another.” He moved to stand between her legs looking down at her as she leaned back on her elbows, the position knowing or unknowingly thrusting her bosom forward.

A smile broke out juxtaposed by the sheen of tears in her eyes, “I do end up getting more than I give, don’t I?”

“You know, if you just wanted rough sex, all you had to do was ask,” he chuckled and leaned in to catch her lips. 

Pushing up on her forearms, her lips attacked his and he let himself fall into her kiss willingly, fervently plundering her lips and tongue with his own. She never got tired of his kisses, always wanting more out of the slight peck in the morning or the times where his mouth completely conquered hers. This time, she was the plunderer and tried to drink in as much of his essence as she could to sustain her through the rest of his night, assuming that after this moment she’d be back to submitting.

Michael let her have a little control, though as their mouths melded together and he began to lose track of time, he fought to take it back. He gripped her thighs, the pantyhose silky against his palms, and as her tongue roughly traced his, he found himself grinding his hardness into her stomach. He needed to get back in charge, and fast, else she was going to tempt him from his secret goal.

Pulling away, he gestured with his nose for her to scoot back on the bed, his eyes taking in the red, chafed skin of her lips and chin as she slid away from him. Her chestnut hair fanned behind her and the long eyelashes pillowed atop her flushed cheekbones, her closed eyes showing off the faint eyeshadow still present along with the liner. He realized he was staring, shifting his eyes to the nightstand where his golden watch glinted in the light of the overhead lamp.

Hopping up to grab the small device, he slipped it snug over the pointer finger on his right hand. The button and battery sleeve were small but bulky against his nail, and little ridges of flexible silicone nibs wiggled as he pinched it to his thumb and rubbed the pads together. Her heavy-lidded eyes opened as he settled between her legs, her knees automatically hooking over his hips. Staying upright, his left hand wrapped around his hardness and ran the blunt end over her clit, her face contorting with pleasure. A tiny bit of pain poked its way up as the bud complained of misuse. It was beyond oversensitive, and the bucking of her hips was quite involuntary.

“There’s a,” she panted, “a really good chance that I come when you do this, you know that.”

“It’s happened before,” he admitted, his voice on edge as he made another pass with his engorged flesh across her heat causing her to twitch again. 

“Maybe I’ll get lucky,” she grinned.

Michael grinned, “so many guy jokes just ran through my brain.” She shared his laugh as her body tensed in expectation, but he was content to torture her by repeatedly skipping the opening. Thankfully, he’d been avoiding the super-stimulated button the last few times, but she was left breathlessly waiting.

The crown was wet with her juices and he used his hand to spread it around and down the shaft before nestling it at her entrance. Pressing in just enough to engulf the tip, he activated the mini finger vibrator, curiosity shining on her face. He winked and brought it up to her neck, the light buzzing against her skin making her shudder at the tickling sensation. Setting it at the pulse point between her collarbones, he inched forward with his hips burying another fraction of himself into her channel. 

Her eyes fluttered closed as a soft moan left her lips, her hands clutching the tussled blanket to keep from reaching out as her legs tightened around his backside trying to pull him deeper. He shook his head keeping that from happening, though he knew most of her reactions at the moment were involuntary. One of his favorite things was to watch her completely succumb to her passion. Rosy cheeks and parted pouty lips, he dragged the device up the edge of her left breast to circle the areola and brush the nipple as he slipped in another few millimeters.

She gripped the first half of him like a glove and he danced his buzzing finger over the other peak, the nipple hardening more at the vibration and slightly sticky silicone that clung to the puckered flesh. Finishing his entrance and finally sheathed in her core, he squeezed his eyes closed and let out a deep groan at the fluttering sensation of her inner muscles.

Missing was the orgasm, however, Sydney not ending up as lucky as she’d wished. The warmth of her channel felt like a velvet-lined vice, and he pulled back to sink in once more. Skimming the vibrator over each tight abdominal muscle, he found a rhythm of slow thrusts, some full and others half, that put her in a constant state of drunk bliss. Of course, the rum shots on an empty stomach may have also contributed.

Flicking the top of the silicone-covered finger against the swollen bundle of concentrated nerves, her hips lifted up and her mewling groan filled the room. The signs were there; she was close. With three quick thrusts, he felt her begin to tighten both around his cock and around his hips, and on the fourth, he slammed to the hilt and held still forcing her to back off yet again.

"Damn it, Michael,  _ please _ ! I can't  **do** this anymore!" Her plea was a beg, a growl, and order all in one, and he knew she'd finally broken. His work here was done. Truthfully? He’d also lost his patience.

Leaning forward and propping on his left hand, his mouth attacked her neck with a series of nips and suctioning kisses. 

"I'm done," he promised in her ear, and her hands flew up from the comforter to clutch at his shoulders, arms, and neck in sweeping motions, one ending up in his hair to hold him against the sensitive pulse point he was currently exploring. "Do you want me to be gentle?" His ask fanned a ragged breath against her heated throat.

" _ God _ no," she demanded with a mewling exhale.

The rising wave hadn't really settled in her stomach, and an ache of pressure above her center was ever-present though overshadowed by the unfathomable pleasure brought by his pistoning hips. He was true to his word and gentle wasn't how he was going to finish their night. His slapped against her as he worked within the constraints of her clutching crossed legs around the small of his back, and a sheen of sweat broke out on both.

Her ragged breathing and lusty moans echoed in his ear as her muscles began to coil ready for release. As her orgasm rose, she honestly expected one last trick, but as the vibrating finger on his hand that she'd honestly forgotten about descended over her swollen clit, she finally dove off the ledge into the black swirling abyss as it turned into a fiery explosion of colors behind her eyelids.

Every nerve ending in her body, and especially those tied to her sex, instantly electrified. With arms and legs clinging desperately around him, fingernails digging into the back of his neck and shoulder blade, she felt him slow to let her ride it out. 

Her words were half-moaned through clenched teeth, "d-don't stop, please don't stop."

So he didn't. He picked up the pace and drove two more other chasm-opening climaxes from her before she felt the tell-tale signs of his impending release. The sounds from his throat went low and gravelly and his chest tilted into her, his forearms stretching beneath her shoulders to flatten against the bed. As he exploded against her walls she loosed a final mini orgasm around his throbbing member as their cries mixed low and high.

She felt like cotton had been stuffed behind her eyes and deep in her ears, everything tingly and fuzzy as she tried to make sense of the moment, but that became too hard.

Vaughn found her lips, brushing a kiss before resting his forehead against hers as they gasped for air, the cool breeze of the apartment chilling their overheated skin.

He felt her arms and legs slip away, a light impish laugh rumbling his chest as he realized that she was already falling asleep. Or passing out. His ego wanted the latter, but his logic understood that it was most likely the first. She’d been up for over 24 hours before they’d even started their night. Add that to a tense, action-packed mission and plenty of time getting yelled at, she was exhausted and  _ then _ he’d pushed her. So he let her slip away as their sated bodies lay atop the blankets.

Pulling out and away, he turned down her side of the bed as far as he could before lifting her gently into his arms and transferring her to the cool sheet below. Taking the thigh-high hose off each leg, his fingers dancing briefly over the pattern they'd left on her skin, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. She immediately recognized that she was being tucked in despite being well into the land of slumber and rolled to her side with a hand tucked beneath her cheek.

Vaughn slid his abandoned pair of boxers on and went through the apartment to lock the doors and hit the lights, fatigue beginning to poke at the back of his mind as he realized he was also nearing the 24-hour mark with no sleep. Heading back to the bedroom, she hadn’t moved an inch, and he decided that passing out was a grand idea.

Unfortunately, his mind had other plans. Nearly an hour later, as a faint orange glow hit the bedroom window making him grin, he looked down at her hand as it lay over his heart and found his fingers tracing the engagement ring. A dark cloud interrupted reminding him that he’d not actually had a chance to say what he felt needed to be said, and the more he thought the more he realized it wasn’t something he’d likely ever say.

Even thinking it now felt intrusive and foreign, but those words had lingered on his lips when she’d challenged him earlier.

_ “If you pull something like London again, I’m taking back that ring.” _

Would he actually? 

Probably not. He didn’t believe in fate or destiny, but the cogs in the grand machine of their lives had been spinning and hurtling toward one another for a long time, only meeting two years ago to find that they were patented for one another as the teeth fit together perfectly. One couldn’t exist without the other, but the other or the one that had a penchant for barreling head-first into gunfire and trouble threatened to send the whole mess to a grinding halt.

Vaughn’s eyes shifted to study her serene face as she slept, all of her cares and woes disappearing, though he could see the blue hint of a bruise sneaking through the makeup at the edge of her jaw. He delicately ran the pads of his fingers over the spot with a sigh and returned his eyes to the ceiling.

He’d never be able to take back any part of his love for her, even if she pushed. Which she would; that he knew. 

“You’re thinking very loudly,” she muttered against his shoulder.

A grin broke his concentration as he let out an airy chuckle through his nose. “You’re supposed to be sleeping.”

She hum-grumbled what he thought was supposed to be a word, but wasn’t sure what it could have been, following it up with, “mnnnnhmm.” Rolling away from him and scooting back, Vaughn got the hint and turned to spoon behind her and she felt his lips press several kisses to the back of her neck and shoulder. “I know you didn’t get off four times like  _ I _ did, but you still have to be tired.”

He peeked and saw the dimpled smile over her shoulder. “I’ll turn my brain off,” he promised and tucked his nose into her perfumed hair. 

_ ‘The good like this makes the bad worth it, right?’ _

He drifted away without the answer, but despite that, he felt sated.

**...**


	13. Records

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve had a particularly rough couple of months that hit me in my heart, and I lost some motivation to write (or do anything, honestly). Some good friends brought me up and told me to “go write random smut”, so here we are. Let’s break some records, shall we?

The pair fell to the couch in rumpled business casual, exhausted from nearly twenty-four hours of travel across the planet. Their muscles were sore and aching from running, fighting, and sitting off and on in uncomfortable coach-class airplane seats.

“I’m not doing anything important for the rest of the day, and nothing can change that,” Sydney grumbled, Vaughn grunting in agreement. 

Each heaved a frustrated groan when her phone immediately rang in her purse, his chiming from his pocket a moment later.

“Come on,” he growled and palmed the singing device,  **_Kendall_ ** in bright letters flashing on the screen.

“No,” Sydney huffed, and she leaned forward to dig through her purse. Turning it off, she chucked it back in with the other contents and stood, leaving the bag at the end of the couch.

“We can’t just...turn off our phones.”

A harsh, "ha," left her throat as her fingers undid the buttons of the blazer before sliding it from her shoulders, and she tossed it to the back of the couch heading out of the room.

“Watch me,” she challenged, her hands pulling the button-up shirt from where it was tucked into her waistband. “You should too.”

Vaughn shook his head. “They know where we live, Sydney.” Leaning forward with elbows on his knees, he craned his neck to watch her retreating back, her hand pulling at the ponytail to shake loose the chestnut locks.

Turning before the entrance to the bedroom she peered down the brightly lit hallway, the late evening sun shining through the west-facing window of the secondary room to her left. Her hands hovered as they undid the buttons from top to bottom.

“Then Kendall can drive over here and knock on the door, which I’m not going to answer. I’m going to climb into a hot bath if you want to join me.”

Michael was at odds with his conscience. Did he want to power down his cell and join her for who knows how many hours without work being able to get a hold of them? Yes. Yes, he did. Could he? Should they?

Her voice taunted down the hall from the master bedroom, “come on, Boy Scout, break the rules a bit. They’ve literally had us running non-stop for over a day. They owe us a break.”

It wasn’t like he didn’t agree. Despite the fact that they’d had two separate flights and had slept the majority of both, he was tired just from the sheer number of hours without a familiar bed. The four hours at the hotel where they’d passed out in their clothes above the blankets didn’t count.

_ ‘But are you too tired to take a bath with Sydney?’ _

His thumbs hovered over the button, the option on the screen popping up to power down the device. The water kicked through the pipes from the other end of the apartment and made his heart beat a bit faster. Looking back down to the phone, his thumb still hovered over the button.

“Michael,” her voice pulled his attention back to the hallway where she stood clad only in a bra and panties, simple black cotton fringed with lace. Her hands were corralling the wayward locks of her hair into a bun at the top of her head, a few tresses disobeying and hanging from the clip in defiance. The effort bounced her breasts behind the cups and his eyes swept down her toned abdomen and thighs before moving back up as she secured the hair to the top of her head.

“Cheater,” he accused, and her dimpled smile served as a response.

His thumb hit the button before his brain could try and convince him otherwise, and he tossed the phone next to her bag before standing. Fingers quickly undid the buttons of his blazer as his belt tightened around his waist above the growing bulge now straining the zipper, and his stride was purposeful as she disappeared through the door the moment her thumbs hooked the sides of the underwear inching the fabric down. The jacket hit the chair in the living room, probably - he didn’t check after tossing it, and his fingers worked the loosening knot of the tie under his collar.

By the time he made it to the doorway of the bedroom, his shirt was wide open and his tie was hanging like two silk snakes on opposite sides of his chest. Lying on the padded carpet was the pair of underwear she'd stepped out of and the bra had been cast a few feet away closer to the bathroom entrance. The door was open and steam was beginning to fog the part of the mirror he could see.

As his hands hit his belt, he called out, "don't make it insanely hot or I'll die getting in."

She didn't respond verbally, but he did hear the turning of the faucet and assumed that colder water was being introduced to bring down the average boiling temperature that she enjoyed. Kicking the pants and boxers off in one fell swoop, he heard her relaxed sigh and the slosh of the water as she stepped into the large tub. It had been one of the reasons they’d picked this apartment. Insanely expensive for what he thought they were getting with regards to square footage, the way her eyes had lit up at the big bathroom with his and her sinks and the separate jet-styled tub and glass wall wrapped shower had sold them both.

Hovering in the doorway he took in her closed eyes as she stretched her legs out from her side, head against the suction-cup add-on plush bath pillow, another on the opposite side where he usually reclined. She’d lit a candle and warm lavender scents began to swirl and mix with the steam rising from the half-filled tub. They’d learned not to fill it too much after the first time they both stepped in and sloshed water over the wood-style laminate flooring, and a smile ticked the corner of his mouth upward at the memory of them unpacking every towel they owned to get it all mopped up.

“Are you going to stand there all night?” Her sultry voice pulled him from his memory to her purple-hued eyes, her hands splashing water up over her stomach and chest. Her gaze gave him a long once-over from top to bottom as his fingertips closed the bathroom door to keep the warmth trapped inside before he made his way over.

A hiss left his lips as the heat tingled the nerves in his feet and legs, the water hot despite her efforts at cooling. Sydney giggled at his scrunched face and hands balled into fists at his sides as every muscle in his body tensed.

Biting at her lower lip, “too hot?”

“Nah, it’s...perfect,” he grunted and slowly lowered into the water, everything loosening. An O formed on his lips as his nethers hit the surface, the extreme difference in temp from the air-conditioned room making him exhale as the erection throbbed in time with his heartbeat. Going all in, he sunk down opposite from her, sliding his legs to her right and reclining against the fiberglass. Closing his eyes he sighed into the air as his body began to loosen.

Despite the harsh introduction, he acclimated. It did feel delightful and relaxing, and his fingers danced over the skin of her shin down to her feet. Pinching the ball of her foot between his grip he dug in his thumb and she let out a satisfied moan.

Sydney cracked her eyes open and smiled at the lack of tension from his forehead to his chin. Gone were the worry lines that had been etched into his brow all day as well as the tautness of his mouth. His lips had a small curl and the lights from across the room above the mirrors bathed his tan skin in a warm glow. He hadn’t shaved all day and the stubble cast a shadow on his jaw, cheeks, and chin, and she had a growing urge to feel that coarseness underneath her fingertips.

Sweat beaded on his brow and upper lip as his body temperature rose and she could feel the same happening at her neck. The two lounged, Vaughn with his eyes closed and head tilted back against the padding as his hand finished rubbing the sore spots of her feet, and Sydney soaking in every detail of him as he relaxed. Spinning the engagement ring around her finger with her thumb, the water making it easy to twist, she pulled her feet back and pushed up to kneel.

The moving water made him frown, but he kept his eyes closed while expressing his curiosity with a slight kink of the eyebrow. His smile grew when her legs straddled his and he felt her backside rest just above his knees on his thighs. Drips plopped into the water before raining over the exposed skin of his chest, and that sensation was followed by a wet finger tracing the line of his jaw. The touch made the muscles of his stomach jump more in anticipation than anything, and she felt his hands move to ghost against her calves.

“I’m really liking the stubble right now.”

With his eyes still closed and his fingers swirling the hot water against her skin, “you hate the stubble because it chafes your skin.”

The digit trailed a line along one side of his jaw to the other before heading back to stop in the middle and dip into the dimple of his chin. She dragged the edge of her fingernail south over the swallowing bump of his throat to where a small pool of drops collected between his collarbones. 

“True,” she granted. “But right now it’s very sexy.”

“Does this mean I could stop shaving for a little while?”

Her palm flattened against the center of his chest and she tilted forward to rub her nose against his as she nodded her head. “Maybe,” her whisper brushed her mouth against his and the short stiffness tickled her lips.

Lifting his chin intending to catch her in a kiss, he frowned and cracked his eyes open when she pulled back staying just out of his reach. If he lifted his head he could easily snag her mouth, but if she wanted to play a little hard to get he wasn’t going to stop her. He let his head flop back to the pad and his eyes slipped shut despite the wonton view on his lap, giving her complete control, something that had never let him down in the past.

Sydney brought her lips back to his, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth and down to his chin before journeying to the other side as her free hand cupped his jaw, fingertips skimming the stubble. A soft sigh left his chest when her mouth settled over his, and he was overwhelmed by the soft fullness of her lips and the taste of the fruity chapstick that visually seemed long gone.

Their tongues swirled together, Sydney pulling back to rest her forehead against his as their breath mingled in quickened pants, “yeah...too scratchy,” she said sullenly, though grinned as he chuckled a cooling breath across her cheeks and neck.

“Told ya.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she groused with a wide smile and caught his lips again, drinking his laughter.

Breaking for air he dragged his cheek along her jaw and skimmed his mouth against her throat, “you like it a little,” he teased and rubbed the scruff of his chin deliberately against the junction of her shoulder and neck. A shiver ran down her spine at the rasp of both his voice and stubble, and the hand that was once planted against his chest slid up in a wet trail around to the back of his neck.

Sliding forward on his lap she felt his hardness press insistently against her stomach, the contact sending another bolt of excitement that trailed to her core. The moving water against their chests as they pressed together added to the friction, and she could feel his hands grip her thighs pulling her closer in an attempt to increase pressure against his need.

Pushing up on her knees, she hovered over him and caught his mouth. Using the movement of the water around and between them, she aligned his tip to her entrance. Their lips broke with a smack as they shared high and low groans as she slid down over him until he was as deep as he could go. 

She set a slow pace, content to ride the waves of pleasure that were amplified by the shifting of the water in the tub. His head rested against the padding, his hands rubbing her back above and below the line of the water, and she could tell that he wanted to push and pull her over him but was holding back to let her have control.

The cresting wave was a constant ball of pressure low in her stomach with each slow slide against her G-spot, and she’d been teetering on the edge for a few minutes. A little extra speed or a harder thrust would send her toppling, but she was enjoying the euphoric moment where every nerve crackled before exploding in a shower of stars behind closed-tight eyelids.

“Let go, Syd,” he said low in his chest, confirming that he’d been well-aware of her teetering and lighting a smile across her pouted lips. 

“Not yet,” she whispered with a strained pant, his eyes opening to see hard focus lining her brow fading to sheer pleasure behind the dimpled grin.

He hummed, “take all the time you need,” he said with a soft chuckle. She’d been close for a few minutes, the fluttering of her channel around him both as arousing and relaxing as the cocooning water. 

Her fingers tightened against his shoulder and neck and the higher pitch of the sounds in his ear brought warmth to his heart knowing he could have this effect on her each time. Despite the fact that she was already dancing at the precipice of bliss, he was nowhere near close and was genuinely curious at the number of times he could send her over the edge before he couldn’t hold back the tide for himself any longer.

She shook with a small tremor and managed one more up and down before tipping into the precipice and crying out both versions of his name against his shoulder. Wrapping his arms around her he peppered kisses along her neck and shoulder as she came down from her high.

Sydney sat upright, her eyes still closed and her cheeks flushed, hair in a disheveled bun with loose tendrils falling around her shoulders. Biting at her lower lip, she pulled in a deep breath through her nose and released it through pursed lips before opening her eyes.

“I’ll never get tired of watching that,” he grinned.

“I’ll never get tired of doing it,” she mused, setting a hand to his chest. “Are you not close?”

He shook his head. “Nowhere near. Wanna see if we can break the record?”

Sydney blushed and rolled her eyes. “You’ll get close,” she countered.

“Well yeah, but...records are meant to be broken, Sydney.”

There was a sparkling fire in his emerald eyes, and she couldn’t deny that avoiding the C.I.A. coupled with adventurous sex for however many hours they could go sounded like an amazing weekend, despite the fact that it was a Thursday.

“We can’t do it all in the bathtub,” she said, a beaming smile breaking out on his lips. 

“You’re on top; you’re in charge.”

Standing pulled him from her core, both groaning at the loss of contact. Stepping out and reaching for the towel, she heard him open the drain and exit behind her, his hands circling around to take the terry cloth from her grasp. As he dragged it over her shoulder his lips followed the path to the opposite side, and she found herself sighing and closing her eyes at his ministrations.

Left on left and right on right, he gently and leisurely patted her arms dry down to her fingertips before starting against each side of her ribcage and soaking the droplets down to the flare of her hips. His lips stilled against her soft skin when his eyes glimpsed the radiant image she made in the mirror's reflection. Her skin was a rosy glow from the heat of the water and as he scanned her face watching her features relax, he nuzzled the side of her neck with his nose moving his arms around her.

With the towel still hiding his hands, he circled them around and patted against her abdomen to catch the dripping water, leaving the skin dry and her breath in shallow quick pants. Though soft, the moment the miniature cotton loops were ghosted across her breast she let out a small gasp and leaned her back into his unmoving chest.

"How about a massage?" His lips flickered against the shell of her ear as his hands left her breasts and moved lower, his body following. 

Crouching, he slid down one toned leg and then the other before charting a course between the two to her center. Her fingers dove into his hair as his mouth nipped at her hip. 

She was accustomed to his touch in her most sensitive of places, but the added coarseness of the towel both muted and amplified the sensations. Unfortunately, he didn't linger, nor did he exude more than a feather-light dabbing pressure where she wanted it most. His effort, however, left her feeling heady dizziness that left her slightly unstable on her feet.

Fortunately, he righted his position and caught her as she tilted back against his chest. Wrapping an arm around and flattening his hand over her stomach, he tossed the towel to the hamper across the room and physically turned them toward the bedroom.

"Go lay down, I'll grab the oil." His voice was light though he kept the gravelly low tone he knew drove her crazy.

She lifted a hand to release her hair and set the clip on the counter, the waves bouncing below her shoulder blades. Climbing onto the bed and lying on her stomach, she waited with anticipation eating at her relaxation. His absence went longer than she felt acceptable and she turned her head to spot him leaning against the doorway with a bottle in his hand wearing only a smile and an erection.

"Enjoying the view?" Her chide widened his grin.

He nodded but didn’t move.

"Take your time," she mumbled and closed her eyes.

Vaughn laughed quietly and stepped to the edge of the bed popping the lid to the essential oils. With a dollop in his palm, he set the bottle aside and rubbed his hands together as the almond-scented concoction filled his nostrils and wafted in the circulating air of the bedroom.

Beginning at her calves, he worked his way to her backside kneading the oils into her skin and leaving a sheen to flicker in the low light. A groan left her lips as he hit a sensitive knot in her lower back, and he felt her feet against his shins as he leaned over to continue up to her shoulders. 

Her heart rate bounced back up as his body moved to surround her knees and squeeze her thighs together. The moment his thumbs dug into the tenseness between her shoulder blades, she felt the last vestiges of tenseness begin to melt away.

"Was...your goal to put me to sleep? Because if I relax any more my brain is going to remind me that I haven't really slept past four hours each night in two and a half days."

No response. His hands continued their firm but gentle loosening of the muscles in her upper back. It wasn't until he lightened his touch to a tickle running down her spine to her backside and upper thighs that her skin broke out in gooseflesh and her breath quickened.

Planting his hands to either side of her elbows, her arms at her sides, his lips kissed between her shoulders as he pressed his hardened lower body against the cleft of her backside. Instinctively, she lifted her hips, but he pulled back and the next touch was his dragging fingertips moving from the back of her knee to the inside of her thigh.

The tip of his pointer finger flicked lightly against the outer edge of her nether lips feeling the juices of her anticipation. Pressing a bit, it wasn't hard to slide between her closed thighs and delicate folds to locate the swollen button. Her airy moan let him know he'd hit his mark, and he flicked the digit against the bud three or four times before retreating.

Wrapping around his shaft he aligned himself with her opening by feel as his mouth continued to explore the back of her shoulders and neck, moving farther north to kiss her cheek as he pushed his hips forward and slowly sheathed himself in her wet warmth with a groan.

Vaughn’s knees kept her legs together, as he slowly began to move. Sydney moved her arms up to flatten beneath her head. Lifting a bit on her forearms, his mouth exploring the jutting rise of her shoulder blade as this position created a small valley between her spine and his stomach. Pushing her hair aside with his nose he blazed a trail with his mouth across her back and up to her neck while keeping himself propped up so that only his mouth and their most sensitive parts were touching.

The new angle and the tightness of having her legs together dropped her head down as she hid behind a curtain of floral-scented brown hair, and a mewl left her throat making him grin. The sensation of her feet coming up and pressing against his backside with her heels was also new as he was used to being cocooned between her legs no matter the position. The driving need to go harder was settling low in his stomach, and he decided to give it legs. Pulling back slowly but sinking in hard and fast, he was rewarded with another moan behind the shroud of hair.

Her walls tightened on each thrust, and though he kept the pace and retreat slow, his skin slapped against hers with each fill of her warmth, and she could feel the tingling sensations begin to emanate from her G-spot to her lower stomach, and farther up still to her pounding heart. Not being up on her knees meant that she couldn’t tip back to meet each thrust, but she let her legs curl up against his taut backside and thighs for more contact. His mouth was still suctioning and nipping against her shoulders and neck, and she could feel his hands planted just behind her elbows sink into the mattress.

Lifting her head she turned as if to look back while keeping her eyes closed tight and felt his mouth against the shell of her ear. The scratch of the stiff hairs on his chin rubbed the skin of her shoulder made her shiver again, and the gentle kiss he pressed to her cheek was diametrically opposed to the rough thrusts that were shocking every nerve tingling in her skin.

“You gonna fall off that cliff, baby?” His words ground into her ear, and just the taunt mixed with the low timbre was the push she needed as the roiling eruption blasted from her center outward to the ends of her limbs. Her hands clutched the blanket in two fists and her legs squeezed against him as tight as they could, Vaughn slowing as she came down from the high, peppering kisses to her neck, shoulder, and back before sitting upright. His hands moved to massage the muscles as she lowered flat with a contented sigh.

She stretched out her arms and gripped the edge of the bed to pull herself forward a bit, rolling onto her back as Vaughn still straddled her legs from above. This move perfectly lined up his mouth with her breasts. Diving his nose into the valley and then tracing up one peak he sucked the top of the mound into his mouth as she groaned and dove her fingers into his hair.

“God, Vaughn, gimme a minute,” she grumbled still out of breath and eyes still closed, the lashes feathered out against her flushed cheeks.

Acquiescing with a chuckle he sat up, his hand resting palm down over her lower stomach. Lifting a bit he reorganized their legs until hers were spread around his, and he scooted forward when she hooked her knees over his hips. Opening her eyes revealed his devilish grin as his eyes swooped her from head to toe leaving a fuzzy bubble to rise in her stomach at the desire pooling in his deep green stare. As if it had forgotten that it had just gotten off, her body tingled in excitement for the next round.

“I could get used to this,” she mused in a sultry drawl.

He put a finger to his lips, “shh, listen.” 

Focusing her ears, she didn’t hear anything other than the hum of the air conditioning and shrugged with a shoulder.

“No phone ringing; no scampering off to Timbuktu; just...it’s pretty nice, don’t you think?”

She rolled her eyes knowing what he was digging at, but she played along anyway. “I was more talking about the attention and not the lack of work.”

Michael laughed, his abs bouncing, and leaned forward to catch her lips as he decided they looked far too kissable. This caused his shaft to run along her swollen nubbin, her hips jumping up and squeezing it between their abdomens. His tongue swooped hers before he moved south to explore her neck and throat.

“You can’t admit it, can you?” His words were a jesting grumble against her racing pulse point.

She let out an airy giggle. “Admit what?”

“You’re dying to see how many times they’ve called, aren’t you?”

A grunting scoff came from her throat which he felt against his mouth, “I’m the one that suggested turning off the phones, Vaughn.”

“True,” he thought. “Seriously...maybe this should be the new normal,” he suggested and rose again, one hand propping on her knee over his hip as the other gripped his shaft and angled the bulbous tip of his arousal to rub circles around her sensitive button.

“While that would be nice,” she groaned, her eyes closing at the sensation. It was still tender from the recent orgasm and she wanted to escape his constant pressure, but she stayed still not entirely wanting it to stop. “This isn’t a job.”

Vaughn rolled his eyes while aligning himself with her entrance and slid in an inch or so before pulling back and going up to circle the bundle a few more times. His eyes took in the pouted O shape of her lips and the gasping pant that left her chest through those pouted lips. “I don’t know, Sydney. I’m working pretty hard here.”

“There are,” she paused with a whimper as he entered again only to pull back and drag his arousal against her femininity. “There are so many...other times to have this conversation.”

“But I have your,” he ground deep from his chest and punctuated it with another thrust, “rapt attention.”

“What do you want me to say? I’ll...I’ll say it,” she begged as he pressed in again, and she cracked open hooded eyes finding him already staring intently in her direction.

Bringing his hand to his mouth he licked his thumb and lowered it to swoop in a wet line from the bottom to the top of the bundle making her hips jump and stomach tense, a low moan dragging from her throat.

“I mean...I’ll quit if you promise you won’t stop,” she grinned, their eyes connected as the pad of his thumb continued against her clit while pushing lazy and slow into her channel.

Vaughn was beginning to feel the churn in his stomach, a warning sign that his body was going to start preparing for release well before he wanted to be ready. With this knowledge, he sped up the finger at the top of her sex and pushed slightly higher on his knees to allow himself to hit deeper. This less intimate position gave him the view to watch her breasts as they bounced with each push, and that along with the tightening of her around his shaft made a groan bubble up from his chest. His free hand ran tickling lines across her stomach and thighs, and she held his emerald gaze until the first crest of another orgasm sent her body into a shudder and closed fast her eyes with a scrunch.

It was almost too much. He pulled free from her heat despite wanting to feel the rippling in her contracting core, but he likely wouldn’t have been able to stop from spilling into her and putting a slightly premature end to their game. This was only number three, they had at least two to go, and while the goal may kill him, he was very excited to see if it was achievable.

“That was close,” she chuckled, and he opened one eye to glare at the satisfied smile on her face. “That was only three, you know.”

“I’m well aware,” he grumbled, his voice low and scratchy. 

More than anything, he wanted to grab her hips and sink into her pliant body to finish what he’d started, but he shook his head and beat back his primal instinct. Rolling to the side he flopped to his back beside her, his chest rising as he took a few deep breaths, and she couldn’t keep her eyes from drifting to his hard need, the head purple, and every few seconds it throbbed and twitched as a drop of precum pearled at the tip.

She rolled to her side and propped her head on her hand looking down at him, her free hand tracing the outer line of his pectoral and seeing his nipple harden in response. Pressing a kiss to his shoulder and letting her fingers trace each toned abdominal muscle downward, she bit her lip when his erection bounced when she hit a particularly ticklish spot above his navel. Dipping a swirling finger inside, she continued lower but jumped when his hand circled her wrist just before she could make her target.

“Don’t,” he ground.

“Why not?”

“I don’t need it.” His eyes were still closed, but the other hand at his hip was fisting the coverlet.

“So...you don’t want me to?” Sitting up freed her other hand, and unabashedly she swirled the pad of her pointed finger against the crown of his arousal, and his hips nearly came off the bed. “I think you want me to.”

“God...of course I want you to but…” a deep groan left his throat as she circled the tip once more, spreading the sticky drop before tracing the rigid shaft down on the bottom side. “I might not be able to, you know,” he grumbled.

The bed shifted a bit and he desperately wanted to open his eyes, but knew that the wanton sight of what she was doing, or going to do, threatened to unwind everything he’d been trying to keep bottled. 

“You think I can’t help you recoup? You’re not going to make it, sweetie. I know your tells far too well, and it’ll be painful long before any record gets broken. Just...lay there. It’s my turn now,” she ordered, and he decided he couldn’t disagree. It was almost painful  _ now _ .

Fingers circling his shaft caught the breath in the back of his throat, and he decided he would never tire of feeling her hands on him knowing she felt much the same. Sydney felt his hand come up and rest lightly against her back, and she leaned forward to press her lips to his taut lower stomach. As her hand stroked up and down he felt the coil tightening at her ministrations, her mouth against his abdomen trailing wet kisses around his navel speeding up the process.

Her thumb rubbed the sensitive underside of the head, the pad tracing the groove and making him groan. This set his toes to curl against the edge of the bed, and she took a bit of pride in calling how close he’d been, though she’d heard it in his voice and felt it in his muscles as he’d tensed under her arms and legs.

He’d been so fixated on the feeling of her hand and the impending orgasm that when her tongue circled the oversensitive head, his breath caught in his throat before coming out in a ragged groan. His hand against her back squeezed and she grinned, curling it around the soft crown. She could taste herself on him and a rush of erotic energy flew to her center.

With the added friction of her mouth at the head and her hand gripping and moving up and down, he was teetering at the edge of his release. The moment the pointed tongue traced the groove at the base of the shroom-shaped tip he tapped her shoulder. She pulled back and slid up a bit to lean over and press a kiss to his stubbled chin, then cheek, his hand letting go of the blanket to dive into the hair at the nape of her neck and drag her lips up to his.

She kept a steady pace with her palm as his lips devoured hers. The grip he had at the back of her neck tightened as his gravelly groan escaped against her lips, his body stiffening before a hot splash hit the back of her knuckles. Rhythmic pulsing emptied himself over her hand and his stomach, and she continued the thrusts until he was well and truly spent, his body going limp in a panting heap against the blanket.

"God, I love you," he groaned feeling her press a sweet kiss to the corner of his mouth and nuzzle her nose against his cheek.

Once his breathing had somewhat calmed, he looked down at the mess across his abdomen with a grunt, Sydney following his gaze and laughing. They shared another kiss before she moved to the bathroom, and he dropped his head back before tossing his arm over his eyes to clear the stars from his vision.

"Here," she got his attention, stepping into the room with a wet washcloth in her hands. "I'm going to go grab a drink, do you want anything?"

"Thanks. Uh, whatever. I'll drink whatever you show up with," he laughed, his eyes following the sway of her hips as she left the room. Glasses clattered from the kitchen as he made his way to the bathroom, and he heard the tell-tale pop of a cork from a bottle, likely wine. Cleaning himself up, they stepped into the bedroom at the same time from opposite ends.

"I thought I could make it," he grunted, falling to his side on the bouncy, comfortable bed to prop on his elbow.

Sydney laughed and poured one glass of the wine for them to share before settling gently to face him with her head propped the same.

"Believe me when I say a break sounds amazing. I felt like a baby deer walking into the kitchen; my legs are like jello."

Vaughn chuffed and shook his head behind the sip of wine, the robust red tickling his tongue with an earthen, berry taste. "Does the record still get broken if it’s not in one sitting?"

Sydney grinned as he handed over the glass, her fingers delicately wrapping around the stem. "Are you suggesting we move to standing? That could be pretty difficult at this stage," she nodded to the rouge liquor before taking another drink.

“Aren’t you the comedienne after three orgasms and two sips of wine,” he chastised, pulling the glass from her and taking a hearty swig to finish it off. 

Dimples and an open-mouthed laugh accompanied by a massive eye roll made him chuckle into the now-empty glass. Pushing up he felt the pinch in his side as his sore muscles protested, but he got to his knees and reached toward the bottle on the nightstand. It was just out of reach. Pushing her hip to get her onto her back, he tossed his leg over to straddle her knees giving him access to the nightstand.

Her hand jumped into her hair as she settled onto her pillow dragging the long tresses to one side out from behind her shoulders. Hitting his thighs, fingernails grazing and tickling, she could feel his skin reacting beneath her palms. Michael pulled out the loosely jammed cork with his teeth and refilled the cup to the half-way point. Awkwardly replacing the topper and pushing it in with his chin, he cast the bottle back to the nightstand and looked down at the contentment written on her face.

Taking in her soft brown eyes, hooded under heavy lids and lashes, a sweet smile hooked the edges of her pouted lips upward. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, leaning down for a kiss, Sydney’s hand curling around his as it held the stem of the glass, the other flattening against his chest to keep him upright.

“Do  **not** spill wine on the bedspread,” she grumbled.

This made him sigh. “I wasn’t going to. Did you...miss the ‘you’re beautiful’ part?”

“You would have,” she giggled behind her words. “And thank you, but no kissing or moving up and down while holding wine on the bed.”

Vaughn rolled his eyes, tugging gently out of her hold and bringing it to his lips for another hearty swig. “No kissing if I have this?” Tilting his head, he aimed at the glass.

She shook her head, a cheeky smile underneath a warning playful glare.

“No going up?” His free hand dragged a finger from her belly button up through the valley between her breasts.

Another shake, though he saw her eyes darken and the glare loosen. He took another drink, a blood-colored drop lingering on his bottom lip that she had an almost irresistible urge to remove with her mouth.

“No,” he turned his voice low, “going down?”

The finger made an abrupt turn and moved south back to her navel, circling the indent before journeying further and stopping just above the top of her femininity.

She wasn’t so quick to respond this time.

“Ooh, is that the magic phrase that allows me to drink wine in bed?”

Without waiting for a response, he handed her the glass and shimmied backward toward the foot of the bed. The moment his legs weren’t around hers and his hands touched her shins, she couldn’t stop from opening to him. At the glistening wetness at the juncture of her thighs, he felt his lower half begin to firm. 

Sydney puffed up the pillow behind her head and brought the glass to her lips, Michael peeking up and seeing an expectant smirk on her red lips. Moving to his knees between her calves, he leaned forward and set a wet, open-mouthed kiss to her stomach. He brought his left hand up in a dancing line from her knees to her thigh and skimmed his fingertips over her sex.

She hummed behind a mouthful of wine, and for a moment he realized how much of a queen she was - at least to him, though she would deny it if he ever said as such out loud. Tilted up on a pillow with a glass akin to a goblet in her hand, she watched with anticipation as every muscle in her body tensed when her center was touched by his lazy drifting fingers. He could already taste her...that sweet flavor that was uniquely Sydney made his growing arousal press into the bed.

Sydney decided she should probably set the wine aside, knowing that the moment his mouth touched her center she wouldn’t be able to control her muscles. It would have been terribly hypocritical of her to fling the red liquid across the coverlet in a throe of passion.

His fingers traced the edges of her nether lips in slow swoops before taking a finger in a line from the swollen nubbin at the top to the opening at the bottom, slipping it inside with a spin before exiting. He knew it wasn’t long before her fingers dove into his hair, nails skimming his scalp and sending a tingle running down his spine, as was her custom when he was parked between her legs.

Piercing green eyes watched her take another sip and then cast the drink beside the bottle. She settled back to the pillow and her eyes drifted closed, hair fanning out in a dark halo, and he studied the pleasure that crossed her face when the tip of his tongue flicked the button. Right on cue, one hand grabbed the comforter and the other was instantly in his hair pulling him harder against her center. He obliged, opening his mouth and suctioning it to the top.

Her sweet moan filled the air, his groan echoing in return as he sank into her warmth with lips and tongue. While he was here was one of the moments that she fully let herself go with him, though it had been happening more and more each day.

Tracing her folds and tasting her wetness, he curled his finger inside to find the sensitive patch of her G-spot and brush it repeatedly while his tongue picked up the pace at her bundle. Alternating between that and sucking kisses, Sydney felt the fuse in her stomach light and burn a path toward her core.

The higher pitch to the sounds coming from her throat, the curling of her toes he felt against his back, and the rush of juices against his mouth, he knew she was nearing the precipice. Lightening the touch of his tongue to snake-like flicks, he pulled his hand back before inserting three fingers into her warmth and curling them up against her internal button to brush it with all three at alternating intervals.

A shower of sparks erupted from her channel and rode the waves to her brain, everything behind her clenched eyes going yellow and then orange before being smothered by iridescent black. The hand at his hair bundled the short strands tightly between her fingers making him wince and chuckle, and the other pulled up on the blanket tucked below their bodies as far as it would lift. 

The legs that had surrounded his shoulders pushed as her hips lifted off the bed a few inches, but still, he remained at her center, fighting the instinctual tightening of her muscles and wishing it was his length and not his fingers that were experiencing the contractions in her core as the walls undulated with her climax.

Sydney gasped, his mouth and fingers letting her come down slowly while prolonging the earth-shattering orgasm just enough to make her think a second, smaller one was on the back end. Just before it would have made itself known, however, his mouth left her center and the fingers were withdrawn, kisses placed against her inner thighs.

"God, Michael," she groaned in a heavy, wanton voice, and he rose to trail his lips across her stomach, breasts, and neck. 

Once he was tucked between her legs he pressed his renewed hardness at her entrance and sunk into her still clenching body.

"This okay?" The tremor of excitement in his voice made her grin.

"You...you think of every time like the...the first time," she panted, "don't you?"

He grinned, pulling out and sinking back in, "no."

Wrapping legs high over his hips, "liar," she called. Her hands gripping his biceps on each side.

Michael chuckled, his mouth placing a suckling kiss to her nipple before he lifted his head back up. 

"Every time is infinitely better than the first time," he groaned with a fan of hot air against her sweaty skin, "which was amazing. I was just making sure you're good, it's been a long night."

As much as she wanted to make fun of him, the fact that he always put her first was endearing. “This isn’t gonna kill me, but if it does? I’m fine with it.”

They shared a laugh as his mouth explored her neck and chest, finally tipping up to join their lips and tongues as his hips kept a slow but steady rhythm. Despite the lingering thought that her body may at some point decide that it was done, the fact that he’d nearly wound her toward a smaller cliff with his mouth readied her for his last push. The tenseness in his muscles was evident against her palms, and she dragged her fingernails down his sinewy forearms until she hit his wrists. 

The familiar tingle spread from her abdomen to her heart in pulsing waves, all connected to the slow thrusts of him inside her, the tip rubbing deliciously against her inner button as the base nudged the outer on each inner push. Sliding up her hands clung to his ribcage, her fingernails digging into his skin on the back side as her thighs tightened and closed around his hips involuntarily. 

Dropping a suctioning kiss to the column of her throat, he spoke low into her ear. “One more time, Syd.” 

He was close, yet again. This time, though, there wasn’t anything stopping him from driving the wave through her body and then losing himself in the feel of her careening off the cliff into oblivion.

Sydney wasn’t sure what cloud nine would have felt like, but now assumed it was this. The moment between orgasms and the feeling of warmth, comfort, passion, and bliss all melding together in her abdomen and chest. The myriad of colors behind her eyes had run the spectrum, and at the moment it was all hued pinks and purples. Sparkling flecks of light twinkled from the neurons firing within the overloaded pleasure center of her brain. Another deep pool spread beneath her, and a tingling shudder ran from the top of her head to her center as she dove in yet again, and everything in the microseconds afterward grounded her to the man she loved.

She felt the way his hand brushed a stray hair from her forehead before cupping her cheek and tilting her up to meet his mouth. She felt the hardness of him between her legs contradicting the softness of his kisses and whispered words. She also felt the trembling of his other arm as it held his weight above her and realized that he was still holding on for something.

Vaughn’s lower back tightened as he held himself above her while she came down from her high, her fingernails loosening from his sides leaving behind crescent dents in his skin. They panted together as she opened her chocolate eyes, “you beat the record.”

He chuckled. “Technically,  _ you _ beat the record.” His arms shook as his body reminded him how close he had been while essentially willing himself not to come with her on her last cresting orgasm as he selfishly wanted to make the record an even number. Five wasn’t as impressive as six.

Lowering his mouth again to hers, their tongues languidly danced as his hips, almost on their own and driven by base instinct, continued short, slow, randomly-timed thrusts. The burning in his lower stomach made him stop a moment and squeeze his eyes closed before pushing out a whooshing breath through whistle-pinched lips against her chest.

“Michael, let go,” she repeated his words from earlier, and he smiled, opening his eyes to look deep into her nearly full purple gaze.

“One more minute,” he begged in a raspy whisper, and he slowly pulled back to equally as slowly push back in.

She hummed, “take your time.” Lifting her head she fastened her lips to his throat and tasted the salt of his skin, a groan vibrating against her mouth.

“Can I ask you a question?”

She grinned, “yes, I could probably go one more time, but if I don't, it's fine. Believe me."

Another slow thrust was his response. “If it was me or the agency...would you quit?”

The shock was written on her face.  _ ‘If I screwed it all up, at least it was after five.’ _

“This...you want to ask this now? Vaughn are...you,” she paused thinking back to the earlier conversation, “I wasn’t being serious before.”

“Would you pick me?” He pushed with both his body and his query, and he saw the conflict on her face. She wanted to throw it all away and stay in the moment with their bodies in tune, but her mind had taken off at the insinuation and he could tell. The benefit of their intimate position kept her from having the wherewithal to compartmentalize, though it was a rare occurrence anyway with him these days.

“Yeah,” she answered quickly. “Of course.”

Surprise etched his face as she answered so confidently. "Really?”

“Michael, I am so in love with you. It’s not a hard pick,” she swore and brought her hand up to press the worry lines in his forehead away and sweep her fingers across his stubbly cheek.

“I’d never ask though, you know that. I don't know why I did now, honestly. I was going to ask if you could go again,” he laughed his nerves away.

“It’s okay,” she grinned, her touch skimming from his jaw to his chest and down the ripples of his abdomen to the taut muscles under his navel. "You are so close," she giggled.

He scoffed, "you don’t know how close I am." Punctuating his words with another thrust, his body rejoiced at the idea that completion was on the horizon.

The mewl that left her throat formed into words. "Your back tightens up," she started, her free hand circling around and feeling the tautness of the muscles. "Your voice goes low and rumbles from your chest," an example groan bubbled up as he kept the in and out slow and sensual, enjoying the build-up despite the fact that he’d had more than enough by this point.

Strained, "is that all?" For the first time he noticed the lower edge to his words, lower even than when he tried to turn her on.

Sydney moaned low in her throat and shook her head, but couldn’t talk any longer. As her eyes closed, his free hand snuck between their bodies and found the overestimated and overused button at the top of her sex. Pressing his forehead against hers he focused on the emanating pleasure generated by the lower halves of their bodies.

The constant rhythmic pulsing of her walls around him coupled with the slow retreat and resheath into her velvet-lined channel was too much. His constitution was depleted; his tank was empty. He was now relying on pure instinct and his body took over demanding release. Sliding his arms beneath her he pressed against her chest and buried his face in her neck. 

This was the last of his signs that he was close, and her arms circled around his back, one hand cupping his neck and holding him against her throat. He curled into her and clung to the peace he always took in her - with her. With his thighs pressed against her backside and Sydney’s legs hooked high around his waist, the base of his shaft ground against her pearl pushing her toward a final orgasm, as was the norm near the end.

Stars shimmered behind his eyelids as his release exploded from the coiled rubber band in his lower stomach, and he let out a harsh groan against her neck as his body tensed and his hands clutched at the back of her shoulders. Sydney’s final orgasm was nearly simultaneous and smaller than the previous, and she was a bit thankful as her body screamed ‘enough is enough, let’s go to sleep’. She calmed sooner having been in this delightful state several times already and found her fingers running soft swirling patterns over his sweaty cool back as he relaxed.

“Don’t fall asleep on me,” she mumbled and kissed his shoulder, his laugh in her ear a low rumble.

“I wasn’t.”

He was. He’d already been drifting when her voice pulled him back.

“Yes you were.”

Situating with a roll, she tucked herself into his side as he snored immediately into her hair. Exhaustion pulled at her bones and she fell willingly into the embrace of sleep.

**…**

Refreshed and relaxed, Vaughn sipped his coffee as he rode the elevator to the rotunda floor. It was early on Monday, and while he was preparing for the reaming of a lifetime from Kendall after the pair had ignored their phones for nearly three full days, he didn’t regret a moment of the workless weekend.

Seeing Will reading through a thick file, he patted him on the shoulder as he passed. “Hey man, Kendall in his office?” 

“Six?  _ Six times _ ? Do you know how hard you make it to be  _ anyone’s _ boyfriend?”

Michael choked mid-sip as the coffee burned his tongue, throat, and finally fingers as it sloshed over the styrofoam rim. His green eyes went wide and he looked left and right and directly over his shoulder as if expecting Jack Bristow to pick him up by the scruff and toss him on his ass in the parking lot.

“You...how...did Syd...did she tell you?”

Will rolled his eyes and went back to his paperwork. “Sydney told Francie,” he explained and turned with a mischievous blue twinkle in his glare. “Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”

“Agent Vaughn? I’d love some explanation on why it took three days to get a hold of you,” Kendall’s voice boomed across the rotunda, all eyes present swinging around to see the man with his arms crossed over his chest and a scowl wrinkling his forehead all the way up to the bald crown.

Will leaned in with a whisper, “maybe  _ he’ll _ be impressed and you won’t get stuck with paperwork if you explain it to him.”

“I earned that paperwork,” Vaughn answered with a grin, passed his coffee off to the reporter-turned-analyst, and winked behind a smirk.

“I hate you,” Will called out.

“You’ll get there, little guy.” Vaughn taunted as he turned to accept whatever punishment the boss had in store.

**…**


	14. A Very Merry Holiday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas, darling Alias fans! Here’s hoping that 2021 is nicer to all of us, eh?

**Chapter 14: A Very Merry Holiday**

Steam rolled through the locker room creating a musty rubbery smell and leaving everything feeling sticky. Vaughn stood at the mirror shaving as drops of water fell from his hair to his shoulders and chest, lines trailing down to soak in the towel wrapped low on his waist.

“Dude, why are you shaving? It’s like, eight at night and no one at the Christmas party is gonna care.” Weiss resisted the urge to slap his friend’s shoulder as he tugged the boxers and then jeans over his hips at the row of lockers opposite the mirror and sinks.

Speaking without moving his mouth, the razor against his upper lip, “mmm not goin’,” he mumbled.

Will scoffed. “What? No, no, no, you’re supposed to pick up Sydney and then come by. Francie’s gonna be pissed.”

“She knows we’re not coming,” Michael grinned and peeked over at the two. “We have plans.”

“On Christmas Eve with the biggest party in town and unlimited booze at Francie’s restaurant, you have  _ plans _ ? Syd’s cool with this?”

Returning the blade to his left cheek and opening his mouth to accommodate, “surprise,” was all he said. 

The two goaded and bribed as he finished shaving and tossed his rumpled suit back on after running a towel over his hair. Shouldering his bag they made it to the building’s exit before Weiss made one last impassioned plea.

“Mike. Drinks...dancing... _ so _ many girls for me to hook up with. You can’t just abandon your wingman.”

Vaughn’s brow wrinkled as a frown curled his eyebrows together, “you were never  _ my  _ wingman.”

Will tried when Eric failed. “Come by for a little while at least! Her flight’s not even in till ten. Your plans can’t be as good as Christmas karaoke, man.” 

“Have fun. Tell me all about it Monday.”

The two friends put on their best puppy eyes and drooped the corners of their mouths into an obnoxious pout, Vaughn rolling his eyes and reaching into the crumpled blazer. Their looks turned into curious frowns as their friend frustratedly rifled through the pockets until he found whatever it was he’d been seeking. 

The hinge on the velvet box clicked as it opened, and tucked in deep blue silk sat a sparkling diamond atop a silver band. “Can I leave now?”

As if it was their idea, they ushered him to his car and sent him on his way.

**…**

It had been ages since he’d parked in front of the warehouse, and while his mind was rushing through his thoughts and plans, muscle memory got him there in one piece. Despite the fact that he was early, Jack was waiting for him in his business suit beneath the intimidating black duster. Though Michael had to wonder if the duster itself was intimidating, or if the glaring man inside was imbuing the overcoat with some kind of dark energy.

The air was chilly against his head, his still-wet hair sending a shiver down his spine beneath the oxford. Reaching to grab his blazer, it slid over his shoulders and he was thankful for the warmth of both the coat and the lump poking his chest from the inside pocket.

“Did you have any luck, Jack?” 

He didn’t hide the hope from his voice as the request he’d put into his soon-to-be father-in-law was the lynchpin of his plan for the evening. Checking his watch, he had around two hours to put the finishing touches on his plan before Sydney would be home from the airport, and while the participation of the man in front of him wasn’t required, it would make everything more memorable.

The grumpy man gestured to the back of his sedan, and Vaughn’s heart sped up a bit as he hurried the rest of the way with a bounce in his step. While Jack still wholeheartedly disapproved of their relationship, that was at least the vibe he exuded, Michael could count two or three times where the man had tossed aside his animosity to give his daughter a moment of happiness.

Reaching into the backseat he extracted a large, worn box. The writing on top was feminine and nothing like what he’d seen Jack scrawl on papers in the office, so he assumed that the box had been packed by Laura Bristow. The pang hit his heart as he realized that this box hadn’t seen the light of day after she’d packed it, meaning that Sydney likely hadn’t seen the contents since she was five or six years old.

“That’s great, thanks, Jack.”

The father set the contents on the ground at his feet, the cardboard jingling, and Vaughn hadn’t expected to see the man pull his phone from his pocket and point it in his direction. Leaning in, his heart sank at the message from Kendall.

**_Let me know when Sydney is available for debrief, we got new intel and need to set a flight._ **

“I’m assuming that fouls your plans,” the father said, a steel-blue stare witnessing the frustration and immediate anger that flashed in the young man’s green eyes.

“I know I ask a lot from you, but is there anything you can do?”

“Can you give me a better reason other than  _ ‘it’s Christmas’ _ ? That  _ excuse _ has already been denied.” It was slightly comforting to know that the man had tried.

_ ‘Tonight is the night that Jack Bristow shoots me in the face. Not only that, but I went ahead and disposed of my body at a random warehouse  _ **_for_ ** _ him. _ ’

Jack did genuinely feel bad for the young man despite the fact that he was still trying to be the stoic and unbending, overbearing and antagonistic “girlfriend’s father”. However prepared he prided himself in being, however, it took everything to keep a steady face when Vaughn reached into his coat and pulled out the palm-sized velvet box. He knew the contents before it was opened, but the delicate ring still widened his eyes.

“I’ve been trying for over a month without giving it away, which is,” he exhaled defeatedly, “is tough enough when the woman you want to marry is a genius, but it hasn’t let up. In over a month, she’s been gone every few days. Jack…” he stopped, snapping the case closed and shoving it into his pocket.

Jack wanted to say  _ ‘too bad’ _ as his base instinct kicked into high gear. “Take the box at least.”

The rest of Vaughn’s morale was squashed at those words. “How long is the op?”

“A day, maybe two.”

Send me instead. She needs a break, Jack. At least...at least fight for her to have a break. I’ll go.” Hefting the box and walking sullenly back to his car, he heard the harsh sigh from the man behind him and turned.

“No man that’s asked for a blessing to marry my daughter has earned it,” Jack growled.

Chuckling and shaking his head, Michael slid the box into the back seat. Closing the door a bit harder than intended, though he was angry, he turned to face one of the largest obstacles in his relationship with Sydney with a fiery emerald glare.

“I wasn’t asking, Jack. The question is for her, not for you.”

Pulling the keys from his pocket with a tinkling jangle, he yanked open the driver-side door as Jack’s voice stopped his well-deserved retreat.

“You have it,” he tossed over his shoulder, hitting dial and setting the phone to his ear, “and twelve hours if I can get it arranged.”

**…**

Vaughn looked at the decorations he’d put up inside his apartment with an impressed smile. Though he would never laude himself as any kind of interior designer, his apartment mostly picked from a catalog so everything would match, the hanging icicle-like lights bathed the room in a soft glow as they draped over the mantle before running along the high edge of the bookshelves and finally across the top of the hanging window curtains.

The mini bulbs were bright at the source but immediately tapered to highlight the room with a cream-colored hue. It was light enough to see everything clearly while hiding details in soft, rounded shadows, and the whole scene was offset by the brightly lit yet otherwise naked tree in the center of the curtain-closed windows. It seemed so strange to see a Christmas tree with lights but no ornaments, but at the base underneath the lowest bough was the cardboard box marked as  _ ‘Christmas Ornaments & Decorations’ _ waiting to be opened and explored.

His heart leaped against his sternum at the sound of her key in the lock, and his hands nervously straightened the dark forest green button-up shirt and contrasting red and white striped tie, wanting to but resisting the desire to run his hand through his likely already unkempt hair. Stepping past the end of the couch into the edge of the foyer with a smile, he waited. 

Like a fresh breeze, the door opened and she poured into the apartment while wrangling the bulky suitcase. Facing and locking the door, her arms dropped to her sides and she turned into the comfort of the room with her eyes closed releasing a heavy sigh.

The moment the lids parted, they flew wide and she looked into the living room with an O of surprise on her lips. 

“Merry Christmas,” he said quietly when her gaze landed on him.

“Vaughn,” she started, but stopped as words escaped her. 

Dropping her purse beside the bag she took small and tentative steps toward him, her eyes giving him a once-over from top to bottom. He stopped her with a hand, finger pointing up, her eyes following and spotting plastic mistletoe hanging above him. His apartment was on the top floor, so how he got that stuck in the vaulted ceiling piqued her curiosity, and there was a very good chance that the mistletoe would change hands when he moved.

"What is all this?" His arms circled behind her as hers looped loosely around his shoulders.

He didn't respond. Instead, he nodded back up at the plastic leaves with a look of requirement. Her eyes rolled but her smile remained, and as her fingers danced in the short hair at the back of his neck he felt her annoyed sigh when she tugged him down to press their mouths together. 

Languidly they reacquainted before breaking apart slowly leaving their foreheads pressed together and bodies flush. “I have a surprise for you,” he whispered with a brush of his lips, Sydney pulling back with a smile.

“Is it what I think it is?” The sultry and delicious tone of her voice almost made him throw his plans out the window, but he extracted himself with a chuckle and moved toward the tree as she pulled the coat from her shoulders and moved to hang it near the door. The business style blazer followed and landed atop the suitcase and the shoes were kicked aside as she stepped toward him into the living room.

He first stopped to pour them each a glass of wine, handing her a glass before continuing over to the tree as she huffed with a chuckle. “It’s not exactly a Charlie Brown tree, but it’s pretty lame. No decorations?” 

A wiggling of his eyebrows was punctuated by a jingle as he slid the box toward her on the wood floor. With a frowning grin, she took a long sip of the robust red and set the fluted glass on the coffee table before leaning over. Recognition tickled from somewhere deep in the back of her mind. She’d seen this box before.

Vaughn saw the fight to remember in her eyes as well as twinkling excitement mixing with the purple hue he’d kissed into them earlier and decided to give her a hint. “Jack had this in his storage unit and I...figured it would be put to better use here.”

The moment the last piece of the puzzle snapped into place another slow gasp left her parted lips as a sheen of tears gave her eyes a glassy look in the lower string lights. 

“This...is this…” she pointed and balked when he nodded.

“I know things have been crazy lately, and decorating a Christmas tree sounded normal. Jetting around the globe for the last month hasn’t made things feel very...holiday.”

She was still unsure. “But...this is from...from-” she stopped and pointed over her shoulder in a random direction with her thumb, Vaughn grinning. 

Lifting the box cutter from the coffee table he ran the sharp edge through the sealing tape, her approach tentative as the excitement for time alone with him bubbled into nostalgia.

The first few moments were spent just touching everything at the surface level, a slow smile dimpling her right cheek. 

“Do you need me to break the ice?” he asked, seeing her living in a world of analysis paralysis.

He reached in and pulled out a simple round ornament covered with glittery white snowflakes over red-painted glass. Standing tall and reaching for an upper branch, he looped the metal hook over the plastic and stepped back with shining approval in his green eyes.

Two glasses of wine later, half of the box was on the tree and a giggle left her red-stained lips as the two found themselves looking at a picture of her from grade school glued to a faded, torn, and taped paper gingerbread man. At one point it had likely had googly or button eyes, but they were now blank peeled spots where eyes used to live.

“You were really cute,” he said with a grin. “If we have kids, I hope they look like you.”

A warm fuzzy flutter bubbled up from her stomach to her heart, “were you not cute? I still haven’t seen any baby pictures, by the way,” she groused with a grunt and leaned over to hang the gingerbread man within reach without having to stand.

Vaughn peeked up at the upper branch he’d purposefully left without an ornament and hoped it stayed that way. “I had a big pumpkin-shaped head, gangly teeth, definitely not those rosy dimpled cheeks. Trust me, they’ll be better off with your genes.”

Pouring more wine they made their way through to the bottom layer. “Someone’s gonna have to stand up. I’ll hand them to you and you put the rest on. We can’t hang everything on the bottom of the tree because we had too much wine,” he laughed, Sydney rolling her eyes but agreeing as she climbed to her feet.

Handing them off one at a time, she was quickly running out of room and ended up doubling some up. “Last but not least,” he said with a wide smile, a cone-bottomed golden star placed in her hand.

“We should have done this before the two glasses of wine,” she groaned and reached in a desperate attempt to not lean against the branches and knock all of their hard work to the floor just to put the star on top.

Vaughn couldn’t help but laugh and stand, his hands hitting her hips to steady her as she went up on her tiptoes, and he ended up bringing one hand up to bend the top down enough for it to slide into the cone. Stepping back, Sydney stood with her hands clasped under her chin and the reflection of a hundred sparking LEDs in her bright brown eyes as Vaughn tamped down his sudden nervousness. Picking up the box by a flap he heard a thud against the side.

“Oop, one more. Find a spot,” he ordered, and she studied the branches.

“Can it double up with something else?” Her question came out as serious as it could, her eyes studying each dipping bough one by one to find a spot where the last ornament would shine and be most visible.

“Sure.”

“Ooh, here’s a spot,” she exclaimed and reached back without looking. 

If she took her eyes off of the branch she would lose it, and he smiled while silently opening the box and setting it onto her palm with a tremor shaking his hand as blood thrummed in his ears.

Everything froze as her eyes took in the deep bed of velvet in the ornate box and the shimmer of the Christmas lights bouncing off of the brilliant cut of the diamond ring. The metal was polished perfectly and the breath stuck in her throat as her mind caught up with her eyes. Turning slowly he stood with hands nervously shoved into his pockets as he rocked back on his heels to get some motion in his suddenly antsy legs.

“We never really talked about getting married, but every day I wake up next to you and I never want that to end.” The words poured from his heart and he saw her sniffle against the emotion welling in her eyes.

Trepidation spiraled up from his stomach as she stood unmoving with surprise still etched on her face, her eyes looking back down at the boxed ring in her palm.

“I...wasn’t sure what style would...be best,” he said quietly as the nerves released their energy by way of speech. “I knew you weren’t...uh - I knew that something huge wouldn’t...be you. That just didn’t...seem like you. I think I went to...uh - I went to like fifteen different places, but if you...if you don’t like it we can...fix that, probably.” The lack of confidence in his voice was something she hadn’t heard for a long time and as he descended into panic she overcame the shock of the surprise and waited for him to actually get to the proposal.

“I mean, it’s been a year, you know? We keep getting closer, pretty much living here at my place, so-” the words fell away with a gesture of his hands toward the shining diamond in the box.

“Michael,” she stopped his rambling. “Ask me.”

Breath rushed from his lungs in a whoosh as he realized he hadn’t actually popped the question. 

“Will you marry me?”

In three steps she was in his arms, the ring clutched in one hand as her free hand pulled his lips down to hers. As his tongue brushed her bottom lip she pulled back with a watery chuckle and looked into the velvet box with soft eyes.

He barely had the wherewithal to clarify. “Is that a yes?”

“Yeah,” she whispered her answer behind a sniffle.

“Yeah?”

She looked back up as his hand came up to cup her cheek, “yeah. I wanna marry you.”

He kissed her again, quick and filled with excitement, and his hand took the ring from the silk. Pulling apart just long enough to slip it on her finger. The wine commingled with excitement as her lips found his again, their tongues slipping into the fray as she dropped the velvet box and wrapped both arms around his shoulders.

The pent up desire of nearly two weeks without intimacy any deeper than a kiss and two or three interrupted attempts caught alight like quick-burning fuses that led from heart to sex, and his hands grabbed her hips to pull her as close as he could. He felt her tip back against his grip enough to not separate their lower halves or their mouths as her fingers slipped from his neck to shoulders to collar in an attempt to loosen the tie. 

Not one to be outdone, Vaughn’s hands snuck beneath the long-sleeved shirt and felt the heated warmth of her skin. His knuckles brushed tingling lines, their mouths finally breaking apart with a panting smack as he dragged the shirt up and over her head. It landed somewhere on the floor of the living room along with his tie, and her warm breath heated the skin of his chest as she tackled the buttons of his oxford one by one, her rushing fingers struggling and putting a grin on his lips.

“Syd, screw the buttons,” he grunted, his hands leaving her hips for a moment to yank the garment from behind his tight belt, grip each side just above the still clasped button at the center of his chest, and yank. The split-second pops of the threads were accompanied by the clatter of plastic as the skittering bits hit the floor, and she groaned low in her chest.

“I love when you do that,” she breathed as her lips suctioned around the swallowing apple of his throat.

“I love the sound you make every time I do,” he chuckled and pressed a soft kiss to her temple as she nipped at the pounding pulse point along his jugular. “It’s worth the price of buying new shirts.”

“This will go a lot faster if we do our own pants,” she panted, his lips journeying a series of bites across the top of her shoulder around the strap of her bra.

In reaction, he circled his arms farther and pulled her closer, “but then I’d have to let you go.”

The chirp of her phone across the room by the door froze them both, two sets of eyes glaring behind curtains of lust at her unpacked travel bags. “I bought us time,” he muttered and dove back to her throat, his teeth scraping her skin as her hands clutched his shoulders.

“Bought?” A groan broke her sentence in two. “From whom?” She felt the release of her bra from behind as his skillful fingers danced across her back while hers lightly dragged fingernails down his jumping abdominal muscles toward his belt and the straining bulge behind the zipper of his tented dress pants.

Michael felt the bra slide down between their stomachs, her free hand tugging it out with a drop next to their feet before moving back down to cup his hardness through the pants. “Please don’t make me talk about your dad with her hand down there,” he growled in a whine.

Her laughter was like the sweet tinkling of chimes blowing in a summer breeze, and the feeling of the edge of his pointer finger and pad of his thumb gently pinching and rolling the bud of a nipple ended the giggle with a moan. She loosened the buckle and the belt dropped to each side with asymmetrical heaviness, though her attempt to finish the job was thwarted by him taking half a step back.

“I spent like...an hour setting up the bedroom,” he hinted, Sydney following him with a step of her own, her fingers hooking the waistband of the dress pants to pull their bodies back together.

“If you think we can’t do it on the couch before doing it in the bedroom, you missed me less than I thought.” Her feathery breath and the warmth of her breasts and stomach pressing into him sent a ripple of goosebumps down his limbs and a tingle up to his scalp.

Sydney heard the sigh from his chest and tilted shining brown eyes up as conflict furrowed his brow. His eyes were tightly closed, the crinkles at the corners deepening, and his grip at her hips tightened as he fought with his want to take her at her suggestion. They’d done it before from less time between, that was certain.

A dimpled smile curved her pouted lips, her fingers rising to press away his worries. She slid her hands softly to his shoulders and down the sinewy arms to where he clutched at her hips, loosening the grip and turning to lead him from the living room. Her eyes twinkled following the strands of lights strung on both the right and left sides of the hallway, more framing the entrance to the bedroom. He wasn’t far behind, his thighs bumping against her backside as they walked in tandem steps. 

The sweet smell of honeysuckle and roses lingered just outside the doorway, and Vaughn’s mouth against her neck and shoulders maintained the swirling headiness lightening her steps before burning straight down to her stomach where his hand pressed with fingertips skimming the underside of her breasts. 

The room was awash in light from festooned strings and flickering candles, the burning fragrant wax throwing floral scents into the circulating air. Another moment of breathlessness caught in her throat as she froze in the doorway. The bed was covered in a blanket of carefully laid out rose petals, and two miniature pine trees on each of the nightstands were decorated with a smattering of blooms and spirals of mini lights.

“God, Vaughn,” she whispered, his rumbly chuckle next to her ear forcing her to close her eyes as another streak of warm lightning cracked from her brain to her center.

Pushing forward with her body tingling at every instance of his skin against hers, his fingers skimmed down her stomach to the button holding the dress pants in place. Maneuvering in a snap the clasp opened and she felt the fabric slide down her legs to pool atop her feet. Sydney kicked them aside and turned at the request of his arms. The cool metal of the hanging belt hit her thigh and prompted a shiver, but her hands dove into his hair and flipped the short strands on end between her fingers as she tugged his head down to meet her upturned lips.

Despite the burst of heat and the fact that both sexes were demanding the couple get to it, their mouths met with soft care, tongues brushing as if casting a gentle greeting. This was in direct contrast to everything other hurried feeling coursing through their veins. Sydney’s hands moved back down to finish unclasping his trousers until they joined hers on the floor. The silk of the boxers underneath belied the hardness she traced with her fingers, and another airy chuckle sneaked from her throat at the moan he loosed against her lips breaking the kiss.

Gravity seemed to give up as the world tilted, and the chilly foreign sensation of the petals against her back caused another shiver that pebbled her skin with gooseflesh and hardened her nipples to stand at needful attention. They were crushed against his chest as Michael tipped to follow, his hands catching his weight as his mouth crashed over hers.

Her squeak of surprise morphed into a mewl as his lips and tongue plundered hers, a pirate stealing the very breath from her lungs until they broke apart with a gasp. He redirected straight to her neck, Sydney lifting her chin to give him all the access he desired as he sucked a kiss to her swallowing throat, her legs lifting to loosely hook over his hips and pull his silk-covered hardness against her stomach.

The farther his mouth traveled south the less the pressure and suction, and by the time he closed around a nipple, his lips had taken a sharp left turn from their pillaging roughness to velvety softness. The flat of his tongue swept across the bud and a small annoyed sigh accompanied her fingernails digging into his shoulders.

“You...you gotta pick a speed,” she grumbled with a pant. She was a half-step away from yanking him back up to finish what he’d started, but either he hadn’t heard her complaint or he didn’t care.

Switching to the opposite peak he showered it with the same tender and feathery caresses of both tongue and lips. The shrill trill of her cell from the living room echoed down the hallway and into the bedroom, but a brief halt of his ghosting lips was all it caused as he traced a tickling line down to her stomach.

Lifting his hands and sitting up, a half dozen petals stuck to his fingers. A gentle shake loosened the hold and they rained over her to land across her breasts and stomach. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, the deep red surrounding them a dire contrast to the tone of her skin, pale from less time spent outdoors in the cooler winter months. Cardio had been done on a treadmill inside, especially when traveling, and it had been several weeks since the sun had tanned her skin. 

Following the line of her arm with his fingertips, he skimmed her wrist and palm before lifting the hand to his lips, his thumb and pointer finger twisting the newly adorned ring. A grin broke out on both faces, and Sydney used her free arm to push herself up to her elbow and hold his deep emerald stare.

“I love you, but you’re killing me. It’s been two weeks,” she grumbled, and once freed, her left hand with glinting engagement ring landed flat against his chest. Belying his desire to slowly let the passion consume them, his heart was pounding like a jackhammer behind his sternum.

Once the final articles of clothing that separated them were gone, they were a tangle of limbs as each sought the comfort of connection from head to heart to toe with one another. A shuddering simultaneous sigh released from both chests as the tension of their time apart faded away when he slid into the velvety warmth of her channel. The leg hooked high against his side tightened, the other looped lower beneath his backside, the movement pulling him deeper as their lips slowly melded together.

He figured she would complain at the slow pace he’d set, his own wants and desires fixing to stage a mutiny against his romantic nature, but her arms and legs clutched at him as much as his were clinging to her, and the sounds of her enjoyment were mingling with his own. Pulling his lips away from hers he dragged them to the crook of her neck and curled his body into her as he tried to ignore the building pressure in his lower stomach. Even the slow thrusts were pushing them both toward the edge.

Rose petals stuck to their skin, Vaughn lifting himself above her. He traced the skin down her arms coming to her hands. Looping their fingers together, he extended them above her head in two entwined fists, petals bunching against their skin. Pushing in as deep as he could, he stilled and tilted to rest his forehead against hers, his panting breath wafting across her chest. Sydney rubbed the tip of her nose against his with a sigh.

“You are just as close as I am, why are you holding back?”

The phone in the other room rang again, Michael’s chuckled burst of air coming along with her eye roll. “Because I agreed to go on a mission so you could have a break, and they aren’t gonna stop calling despite your father trying to buy us time.”

She pressed a kiss to his chin and he opened his eyes to look down as their fingers untangled, his palms planting to the left and right of her chest as hers cupped his jaw and forced him to focus on her euphoric stare. 

“Just...be with me right now.”

The purple hue in her eyes and the soft edges of her features with a marked lack of worry lines made him realize how silly he’d been in trying to force the slow pace just to make things last longer. His apology came by way of his lips catching hers as his hips retreated and quickly thrust back home, her sweet moan muffled by his lips.

The pot was set back on the burner, the renewed boil bubbling up from their centers as she rocked her hips to meet his plunges. Her hands wrapped to the usual spots, fingernails digging into his shoulder blades, and his face tucked against her throat as the rhythmic clenching of her walls pulled the orgasm from him in hot spurts, hers following with blinding white lights behind tightly closed eyes.

They lay panting amidst a disarticulated cascade of flower petals, and she hugged him close with legs still hooked over his hips and arms clinging to his back. Michael trailed feather-light kisses across her collarbone to her throat, but the sharp squawk of his ringtone made them both groan.

Untangling, he pushed away and stood on wobbly legs as blood rushed back from his lower half to his head, and his feet slapped the floor as he hurried to catch the call.

" **What** !"

At the aggressive tone of his voice from the other end of the apartment, Sydney’s eyebrows shot up and a bright smile dimpled her cheeks, but she resigned to lay in a languid pile among the petals as her heartbeat settled back to normal. She could hear his return steps, her eyes cracking open to see him in all his post-coital glory with one hand akimbo as the other held the cellphone to his ear wearing nothing but a scowl and the remnants of his erection.

"Mister Vaughn, you do understand that a Christmas party is not a valid excuse to ignore threats to national security, don't you?"

Kendall sounded pissed, but Michael was just as mad. When Jack had given him time, he'd known it was going to be cut short, but only to a couple of hours? Unacceptable.

"With all due respect, Mister Kendall, we aren't the only agents that work in that office. I already agreed to field the next op, but you need to give us a break."

Sydney was impressed by his bucking of authority and it showed on her face as she propped herself up on her elbows with a seductive grin, her purple-hued eyes scanning him from top to bottom.

The boss must have asked something that put him on edge because the muscles in his chest and arms tightened, the deep shadows cast by the flickering low lights highlighting his physique. 

"Yes, I know exactly where Agent Bristow is right now." 

Pause, though she let out a whispered chuckle.

"No, she's not available for debrief." The hard edge in his voice dissipated when he met her passion-filled gaze. Bringing his hand up to cover the mouthpiece, "don't look at me like that," he ordered in a gravelly tone.

Sydney held up her hands in apology, though she didn’t mean it, and stood, brushing the rose petals from her skin in a shower of red on her way to the bathroom. His green stare followed despite the rambling man in his ear, and with a grumble in his chest, he stalked to the dresser, pulled out, and yanked on a fresh pair of boxers with the phone pinned to his ear by his shoulder.

“Okay, hang on,” Vaughn ordered, leaving the warmth of the bedroom for the brightness of the living room, and the smile on his face at the sight of the over-decorated tree was impossible to suppress. Hefting the briefcase onto the counter he pinned the phone with his shoulder again as he rifled through the paperwork.

Sydney padded into the kitchen behind him pulling his eye. She’d slipped on his dark green button-up over a pair of skimpy panties, and her bare legs were long and lithe. Michael wasn’t sure how the oxford didn’t open and expose more of her flesh to his very watchful eyes as not a single button was done, but it left only an inch or so of a gap down the valley between her breasts to her stomach to the stretchy lace hem of the underwear. He threw a tiny fit with a furrowed brow, a huff of breath, and a frustrated gesture of his hand.

As she poured a fresh glass of wine she sent him an equal gesture and scoff as he stood clad in a pair of plaid boxers low on his toned hips with nothing above or below.

Her whisper wafted over, “don’t let me distract you.” His pointed glare curled her lips behind the sip of wine.

“Agent Vaughn, are you listening? Agent Vaughn!” The harsh tone Kendall used to growl through the speaker brought him back to reality, though his eyes were glued to where she’d slid up to sit on the kitchen counter.

Sydney noted the renewed tenting at the front of his boxers, and the smoky color of his eyes from across the room made them look nearly black in the low light, those eyes taking in her every move - her every  _ deliberate _ move. Yes, the C.I.A. was about to cut their engagement celebration short, but she might as well try every tool in her arsenal to maximize their time.

“Yes, I’m listening,” he lied, his sweeping ogle ending at her bright chocolate eyes, the smirk giving away that she knew exactly what she was doing to him.

That thought made him harder, and though he’d just told Kendall he was listening, Vaughn resisted the urge to ask him to repeat what he’d just said.

Interrupting the information dump the boss was all too happy to continue dropping, “can...can you just tell me when I need to be at the airport? I’ll read the operational file en route.”

Sydney whispered, “I love when you talk business,” before taking in another mouthful of the earthy wine.

She saw him break a bit and slowly walk her way, his free hand squeezing her thigh as he stepped between her legs. When she offered the glass he stiffly shook his head, Sydney taking another drink as her unoccupied hand traced the edges of definition across his chest with a slow, lazy finger. She could hear the hitch of breath in his throat and, with the proximity, the mind-numbing details Kendall was circuitously weaving into his ear.

Her lips brushed against his shoulder and the hand gripping her thigh slid under the shirt and around to the small of her back in order to pull her closer to the edge of the counter, the effort trapping his hardness between them. 

“Yes sir,” he said in a terse response to the upward inflection at the end of the sentence fired his way, though he had no idea what that question was, only that the pause required an answer.

“What?” Kendall sounded frustrated and confused.

Sydney let out a quiet airy laugh, her mouth lifting from his shoulder to the ear free of the phone. “Yes doesn’t answer his question. Say ‘the discs’,” she chided before bringing the glass back to her rosy lips.

“N-no, I meant the discs.” Swallowing the groan lodged in his throat as she bit at his collar bone, the hand not holding the fluted glass tracing the skin beneath his navel at the edge of his boxers.

“Sir, I can’t come in twenty minutes.”

Another breathy and husky laugh sent a shiver of excitement down his spine. “We’ll see about that,” Sydney said against his earlobe before nipping it gently.

Despite the distraction he continued, “it’ll take me twenty minutes to pack. Push the flight back.”

Kendall replied, “then don’t pack, it’s a one-day operation. We’ll...tactical gear...rendezvous point. You...then you can...if that...she can...Jack will…sense?” A low humming tone was taking over, and all he could think about were the glancing touches of her hand along his abdomen and her lips against his throat.

“Say yes,” she whispered.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Wheels up in an hour.”

The click indicated that the call had ended, but Michael’s thumb was already hitting the button and tossing the device with a clatter across the counter. Her legs hooked over his hips as the hand not holding her back dove into the hair at the nape of her neck and yanked her mouth to his for a hard kiss, breaking apart with a sharp inhale and a groan as the hand that had been teasing at the edge of his boxers nearly the entire phone call slipped its way inside to curl around his shaft.

“I’m going to miss my flight,” he groaned without regret.

**…**


End file.
